and with the sweetness of the produce of the sun, and with the sweetness of the moon's yield
The day and night are different
and both bring their own blessings.
Do not curse the evening, for without it
cucumbers would never arrive in your salad.
Do not curse the day, for without it
your skin would be as pale us a unicorn.
If you’re going to get mad at any time of day
I suggest the dusk. It has a thick skin
and by the time you’re done talking
it will have turned out your lights.
and through the contentment of the One Who dwells in the thornbush
God is in a thornbush.
God is in a thornless bush.
God is the thorns.
God is the salve that soothes the thorn’s prick.
God is the one who makes you giggle when
you hear words that have many meanings.
God is the complete lack of words
that leaves you guessing.
God is the one who won’t tell you
if the unicorn exists.
God is the one who exists, though
people argue about that
all the time.
His horns are the horns of a re’em. With them, he will gore peoples together
We’re reminded every year
that unicorns exist, but this is
the first year I’ve noticed
they’re out for blood.