The infinite gesture, the palm
That has no circumference, Compared to a tight-wound spring Is a taut and potent eminence And compared to the infinite palm, The spring too is might, Both mix together Filters and light. The infinite palm Is open and kind It overwhelms, it shines, It floods the mind. The tight-wind spring Performs its task, Timing days Of the wine in the cask, But small in the palm, Resisting the hand, A planet that drifts On the tide of the strand.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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