Short Momentums Poems

Are we like pebbles on the bed
of a great lake when we are dead,
with fate that chose to give us breath
skimming us forward towards death,
gives our momentums skip and flight
in times sequence of day and night .

Propelling onwards, fading rings
marking the surface as each wings,
routing a common destined role ,
do nephesh, jiva, atma, soul,
sink into dark enfolding deep,
cold stone eternally to sleep ?...

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