Nothing to Look Forward To

With nothing to look forward to
There is not much reason
for going faster
for climbing higher
for doing better

With nothing to look forward to
There is not much reason

In the Wee Hours

In the Wee hours
Only me
    The mice
       And the whirring
Of the furnace fan

Cycling less frequently
    Working, but not hard
       Blowing,
But not really wanting to

Pushing air to
Push me to bed
To
Push me and the mice
To stop our whirring
In the wee hours
Of the night

Cipora Katz

Words so simple
Words so true
Words so scary
Words so sad

Words so lost
Words so tired
Words so hungry
Words so lonely

Words so desperate
Words so dead
Words so holy
Words so hopeful

Words so hidden
Words so afraid
Words so thirsty
Words so painful

Words so prayerful
Words so solitary
Words so enlightening
Words so solemn

Words so strong
Words so echoing
Words so eternal
Words so brave

Words to never be forgotten

Upward

Upon a building being built
A form, a box, a crawling giant
Lunging, waiting, lunging again
With massive power but slow
So slow it's motion lost to the passers below
Oblivious, mostly or pausing only briefly
Then moving on, lunging
Then waiting, crawling, then lunging
Onward, upward

Gentle Breezes

Gentle breezes sway
the branches tipped with green

A gust here and there causing
waves of motion, larger swaying
bending

Stillness sometimes ceasing swaying
time captive
    ceasing
       ending
if only for a moment
    captured,
       and released
in branches tipped with green

Raining

Drops stick
    To window

Thick clouds
    Stick
To sky

Light
    Sticking
Inbetween

Between us
    Clouds and light and rain
Stuck
    Inbetween