Two Sprigs of Myrtle
Two Sprigs of Myrtle
the twighlight's embers
To welcome the Shabbos Queen.
In his hands - two sprigs of myrtle
To guard, To remember
The Hand unseen.
And all those years we spent
Up to our necks,
Our souls were clothed
In nothing more than sand -
We could burn the world
With eyes of fire,
But it's enough,
It's enough -
That there are two
Such as you and I.
-
SOURCES:
- Talmud Shabbt 33b
This poem originally appeared in SEASONS OF THE MOON for Iyar 5757.
Written by Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair.
General Editor: Rabbi Moshe Newman.
HTML Design: Michael B. Treblow
Copyright © 1997 Ohr Somayach International.
Send comments to: info@ohr.edu
