Walking on a road
Alone in his coat
He is a world
No one knows
And to himself
Unknown
Yet, when he wanders most
It is his own way, certain
As spheres astronomers note
In their familiar motion.
—Samuel Menashe
Eyes open to praise
The play of light
Upon the ceiling--
While still abed raise
The roof this morning
Rejoice as you please
Your Maker who made
This day while you slept,
Who gives grace and ease,
Whose promise is kept.
—Samuel Menashe
The river that we cross we forget. The river that stops us is always there.
—Samuel Menashe,
on his poem 'Promised Land'
At the edge
Of a world
Beyond my eyes
Beautiful
I know Exile
Is always
Green with hope -
The river
We cannot cross
Flows forever
—Samuel Menashe
Listen to my praise
Various as the seasons
Different as the days
All my treasons cease
When I see your face
—Samuel Menashe