Where cedars bargain breath for snow, a sage counts gilgulim like stones. East, mandalas grind marrow-bright, South, mitzvot turn clay to pyre. Westward, a meadow trims its seams, shepherds hum grace to folded hands. But frost-etched roots still nurse a coal, some blight once grafted futures slow. ‘Ere hammers mute the lion’s roar,i yet loam remembers ax and […]
