I’m in love with anagrams,
Like children’s toys
Letters , the muddy clumps of
Tiny castles , a new architecture
On the shores of my mind.
My most beloved leggos are
Letters of an ancient tongue,
The language of God-talk
On shiny parchment
Found beneath the sands of time
I bite into bread-LECHEM-
The staff of life,
Its crumbs crushed by coursing fluids
Along dense avenues of digestion,
To seep into cells and
Support my habit to live.
I sleep and dream-CHOLEM-
Man does not live by bread alone,
The soul seeks sustenance too-
Pie in the sky, the fruit of imagination,
The pottage of possibility and purpose, the meat of meaning.
I awaken from a nightmare-LOCHEM-
My mind is at war-fear and anger,
Dread of death, of evil others,
Of wishes that wreak vengeance
Leaving behind the debris of want and hunger.
My heart breaks with waves of mercy,
Humanity’s breast has dried up,
The milk of human kindness has soured.
The bald head of a child,
The ribs of a baby reaching out
For anything that will restore a barren body
To its rightful place
Under a weltering sun
That robs her of LECHEM-
Of the stuff of life.
As long as I dream, draped by CHOLEM-
As long as compassion caresses soul with CHOMEL,
As long as I resist cravings of LOCHEM, of battle and
Then at last
There will be LECHEM for all