Sunday, March 8, 2015

The Rock at The Entrance to Heaven: Vayetze

© Trisha Arlin


Sleeping at this place
Or at least trying.
A stone for my pillow
Or at least it feels that way,
There is no comfort here.
I obsess and worry,
I have made such a mess.
I see steps that could take me away.
There could be happiness,
There could be One-ness,
But not yet,
Not at this gate to the entrance to heaven.

I want so much.
I want to be of help,
I want to do good,
I want to experience everything,
I want to be wanted.
I watch so many others ride up that escalator,
the one that leads to...
Well, I don't know what it leads to.
I stare through the bars of the unlocked gate,
But I don't go in.

What if all it leads to is oblivion?
What if there is no traveling up and down that ladder, those steps?
Only pain, then nothing?
No one will remember a thing.
I'm an idiot,
A fraud!
Over confident and messy,
Brash and hurtful,
Selfish and false,
No one needs me.
Soon it will not matter.

Amidst all this self-pity
I have one thing to hold onto.
Yes,
It's that stone pillow
For my hard hard head.
It tried to make me comfortable,
In its own rocky way.
I asked for a place to sleep and it said,
Here I am.

In the morning I will be exhausted.
I probably will have slept but I won't remember having done so.
I will move on, because that's what I do.
I will leave behind the stone pillow
In this place
As my assertion
That I lay down at the gate to the entrance to heaven,
That I saw what there was to see,
And that maybe I will return,
And maybe not.