Why do I wait in the light
Of a world unheard
And whisper nothing but words
Whose meaning may emerge
Or may forever be something
which simply came to me
unknown unasked for unbelieved
as I sit waiting for Maariv
in the joy of an evening
whose pleasant breeze
makes me again want to believe
in the truth of my own inner poetry?
Why Do I Wait/In The Light Of A World Unheard
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