Poetry

Poetry

A Midrashim to Uncertainty

Innocent children suffer.

Evil profits from the corporate to the individual level.

Cancer eats at my friends destroying them by inches.

I rail at life’s darker side lacking understanding as to why.

Life has been so since Adam and Eve left the Garden of Eden.

Humans want certainly, answers, clear explanations.

Jews write Midrashim to square contradictions.

Christians have over the centuries added elaborate stories,

embroidering on the Biblical fabric.

Moslems, Jews, Christians, and others have clear mandates,

viewing the world in black and white.

I bow my head and turn my eyes from evil.

I bow my head and rejoice in the good,

I bow my head and accept my lack of comprehension.

I know not why.

Ambiguity hurts.

Better ambiguity than certainty.

I am not God.