little gods, who fabricate preeminence and struggle endlessly for sovereignty, surrender to your Maker, and know peace. –Read more "to the little gods"
When I say no, You say yes— gently, firmly. The trees bend to Your wind. And inevitably, my willfulness will bow like so. The joys I’ve missed— Your priceless name, and kind, kind heart, the strongest arms and purest charms, your matchless art— are mine to claim. Who can resist? Though wishes press, […]Read more "When God Says No"
The dew has fallen on the grass like tears. The early mourning sun has touched the sky. And far above, that promontory high, Gilboa, rises from the misty years. The shrike of arms, the shattering of spears are memories the wind bears in its sigh. The place for kings and warriors to die is […]Read more "The Song of Gilboa"