a bird in captivity
dreams of Sakura blossoms,
tiny, tender, mis-happenings
how many seasons they have seen
how many springs they have lost
predicting hours of their eternity
a bird in captivity
dreams of Sakura blossoms
fragile, futile, endless longings
how many loves they have seen
how many hearts they have lost
waiting for an endless eternity
a bird in captivity
dreams of Sakura blossoms
soft, solitary, god forsaken things
how many endings they have seen
how many beginnings they have lost
counting colours of their destiny.
​
© Jaspreet Mann

​One drowning man will not be able to save another. 
​-Mahatma Gandhi

It was heartwarming to see the world help a teenager find her wings. What a flight!! 🙏🏼

 ​So here they stand, behind barbed wires
their words frozen on their lips
the icy night has a distinct chill
the cape of darkness lifts a longing

here is a world breaking open like old wounds
scars of icicles hang in winters of doom
the Zohar of infinite love is written on his palm
he is a rabbi, he is a mystic, he is Moses in disguise

one world opens inside the heart of another world
three words find meaning in the decadent Decalogue
the horizon of spring dissolves in winter sunsets
the distance is a longing screaming in a dark abyss

they hear the whispers of spirits in the sheol
their ancestors walk bare feet in corridors unknown
his brother pulls the Kabbalah strings he holds
her mother unlocks destinies unwritten, untold

the sky is the sea, the sea is the sky
the earth is a fragment in their eye
he writes love in Remez, she understands in Derash
their landscape is a dictionary of songs

So here they stand, on razor blades of life
their days eclipsed, their nights blind
there is the wounded ledge of silence
talking to strangers lurking in their mind

here is a Sod holding the covenant of their heart
written with the sacred ink of Merkabah
they read the alchemy of their desires
they write the Midrash of their war

one Torah unravels the secrets of his soul
three kings of Orient bring Frankincense to his door
one Talmud breathes his perfect light
one woman seals her life with his life

they listen to the sound of the Pacific
their memories are echoes trapped in conch shells
his brother dips his words in messianic poetry
her father is a lost Mizrahi looking for his sheep
the earth is the galaxy, the galaxy is the earth
their cosmos of love has a celestial path
their celestial path is strewn with ends and beginnings
and a benevolent God, gently pulls the Kabbalah strings.

© Jaspreet Mann, Kabbalah Strings (First poem of 2019🙏🏼)