It seemed that out of the world
I had fallen, into a sea of holes
which lashed against
a melting shore of faith
They threw me a ring of cork
And I thought
in a sea of holes
a straw to a drowning man
There is no life preserver
There is no life
This is no
This poem originally appeared in SEASONS OF THE MOON for Iyar/Sivan 5760.
Written by Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair.
General Editor: Rabbi Moshe Newman.
HTML Design: Michael B. Treblow
Copyright © 2000 Ohr Somayach International. Send comments to: firstname.lastname@example.org