Good Sabbath

May 2001

"Yes, God,
I'm resting."
The truth is that I'm listening to music
And my mind is comfortable with the sounds.

I often do that
even on the Sabbath
But I know that God placed the notes in the souls
of the composers
otherwise,
how could they have gotten there?

They lift fog from its moorings
and make the sunshine brighter
And loosen the rain
and lessen the pain.
Oh God, do You ever get bored
with our thanks
for each note?

I hope not,
because here comes another one.
Thanks, dear God.





	Poetry > The Sabbath Good Sabbath May 2001 "Yes, God, I'm resting." The truth is that I'm listening to music And my mind is comfortable with the sounds. I often do that even on the Sabbath But I know that God placed the notes in the souls of the composers otherwise, how could they have gotten there? They lift fog from its moorings and make the sunshine brighter And loosen the rain and lessen the pain. Oh God, do You ever get bored with our thanks for each note? I hope not, because here comes another one. Thanks, dear God.