T is the
night of the new moon.
sky is empty- no stars,
no moon.
only a mist
frosting the windows of
a lonely
mansion.
through a window,
lacking curtains,
in a room
deficient of
furniture,
of warmth and
homeliness,
there is a flicker-
a moving light-
fire.
blurred by the mist
outside,
but
somehow visible.
just like
when Moses saw
a fire in the
desert, calling
to him,
the calling of
God,
he obeyed-
he did not hesitate.
maybe it is time
for me
to light up
my mansion of
loneliness
with the fire of
love.
Perhaps i should
listen to
the calling-
the unknown voice
echoing
in the horizon
of my mind.
