Me and G-d at the sidewalk cafe

But I am not afraid
to call you lover, friend,
enemy. I suck ru'ach from your air
so my adam may live
some eighty years
before crumbling to earth.

You drive up a fiercer wind,
knock the seeds from their branches
into my soup.

I ask all the questions you never answer,
why this and why that.
You make no response
but that I might be your bracha,
your blessing to the world,
whatever that means.

I wanted to be something
smaller, like in love, or
employed, or
to eat my soup in peace.

And when we wrestle,
you fight dirty. You wrench my hip
if you can't win fair,
and then you bless me
for spite.

Copyright © 2006 Sari Krosinsky All rights reserved
from Arsenic Lobster
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission