Sunday, July 19, 2009

God Peers Into The Universe

—Yehuda Amichai

Sometimes pus,
sometimes poetry—

always something is excreted,
always pain.

My father was a tree in a grove of fathers,
covered with green moss.

Oh widows of the flesh, orphans of the blood,
I've got to escape.

Eyes sharp as can-openers
pried open heavy secrets.

But through the wound in my chest
God peers into the universe.

I am the door
to his apartment.