Life of Yeshiva Guy

What in the world is this blog turning into? Poems? Oy vey.

A Will ‘o the wisp; a light, 
luminescent forever, shining bright. 
It beckons, it calls, speeding forward. 
And I, watching, toward.

Dipping and gliding
shimmering and sliding
through valleys and hills 
It goes where it wills.

And I, watching, attracted.

But what about it?
Does it know my desires?
Does it care if we’re fit?

Should I catch it one day,
My fears to allay
Is what it’ll do- or so they say,
When one catches it; one day.

All will be perfect.
Problems; no effect.
A globe that is green
World peace, our planet; clean.

All this and more
When you catch this glowing orb
That dances and skips
Holding it tight, with a firm grip.

It’ll ask you, what is your wish?
Only an instant, now to fish
For your heart’s desire,
For what you aspire

Now, months later, on a journey so cold,
Demanding days of courage and bold,
You at last capture, on ice filled plains,
The light it shimmers, waxes and wanes.

And in a magical moment, In a mind blowing instant,
You finally know, what it is that you want,
And the orb, it glows, with soft subtle taunt.

For your yearning was not, for expensive clothes, store bought;
Nor to be a boxer, uncontested battles, hard fought.
Or even an astronaut, space walking in orbit
Or a chess master, executing brilliant gambit,

No, you didn’t want to be, a star of Olympiad,
Nor CEO of Microsoft, every inch Versace clad.

What you now know you craved for… Can’t be obtained in any store.

Or even something that could possibly be supplied,
By the all-powerful orb, even should it have tried.

You see, your innermost craving, Your secret wish unfulfilled,
The thing you’d work ages for, slaving.

You have finally realized… Is to know what you want, to be clear
About your ambition, and to straightly steer
Without ambiguity, as a vision to appear,
To simply know. That is the thing, so dear.

So now that you’ve reached that, the ultimate knowledge,
It somehow isn’t something, like life on the edge,
Or ’til-now hidden wisdom, or something you fear,
Attainable only, by catching that sphere.

Like flaring flame, and sudden epiphany,
You perceive the work of years so many-

That will be required to gain, admittance to your wish.
But its no problem, ‘cuz its the scratch of the itch…
That is the gateway to pleasure,
Without which you cannot attain the treasure.

So you don’t mind the eons of toil, ahead of you now.
The years of labor, sweat of the brow.

The only question still lingering
As that spherule you’re fingering
Is why the need to catch,
And hold on and to latch,

That teasing object, which in the end nothing did,
You suddenly comprehend, is vs. your ego your id.
And in fact was a, complete waste of time.

All this you could have perceived yourself- without rhyme.
So next time simply stay in your armchair,
And figure it out- in comfort of lair.

What it is that you want
What it is that you wish
For desire, as is known, is a dish-
Best served warm, in comfort of home.

(Photo credit to hannahcolligan)