Hod she b’Chesed*
The perfumes of splendor
ache through every body
           each her own kind
           each his own bath of delight.
We name our mysteries
according to the peculiar song
of each and every moment.

Ya, help us learn
to never expect her to come this way again,
to never assume that he will sing that bliss
the same way twice.

Love’s sudden unexpected
laughter embraces new air
with every breath. 

Let us delight in this:  We hold
nothing when we try
to hold it still. 
                                                         4/25/2019
            *Humble Splendor within Lovingkindness