Forest Aisles
These woods are dense,
yet pieced with portals of light.
They lean together,
and in full leaf they form
a canopy, a roof
over our thoughts.
Hand in hand,
we walk a tangled path.
Trunks and beams
forming a natural cathedral.
There is a choir here,
it is scattered and often out of tune,
yet the notes sing and call,
as if they had always belonged
to the music of our hearts.
You grin and begin to whistle
an old Hebrew song,
my feet want to dance,
but I begin to quietly pray.
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