A holy fire, heat
Baking inside, along hot Wire veins, a yearning Blaze in every hollow and knot, A gift of fire, a burning altar, A spilling of orange coals Across a psalter, igniting The valleys and knolls, Following the movments Of the wildcat, the supple sway, The deep eyes, the free mind, The night of eyes at midday, The heart is glad, it beats In the grasses, in the mud Along the river where the snipe Rejoice along the fertile flood.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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October 2019
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