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THE
WATCHMAN
Perhaps
the Mashiach[1]
is on
His way,
ready
to lead
us
to the
Promised Land.
There
have been signs
of His
coming
that
haven’t been reported
in the
papers
or
radio or TV newscasts.
I’m a
watchman.
I wait.
I
prepare,
knowing
not
the Day
or the Hour.
I plant
my rose bush
at the
gate,
sup,
rinse
my bowl,
retire--
trying
to live
His
Great Command
as best
I can.
Perhaps
He’ll come
tomorrow.
It’s
possible.
Maude
Carolan
I love this - "I'm a watchman." Thanks, Maude.
ReplyDeleteThis is one of my earliest poems, Barbara. Thank you for your comment. I know you're a watchman, too.
ReplyDelete