DOT... LETTER... WORD...
A holy soul needs a body that
Can take the charge. When the surge
Of electricity leaps up, that shows
A body filled with every tempered urge,
And the wind mixes with the rain,
And the echo of a shofar
Anoints the leaves with dew,
Anoints the mind with gleam of star,
A fresh view, a gray sea, a spout,
A biting taste of salt, a clearing,
A brightness, a knowledge of bricks,
Of interstices appearing and disappearing.
Yaacov David Shulman