Egypt Loved The Lotus Because It Never

The Sabbath Is A Weekly Cathedral Raised Up In My Dining Room, In My Family, In My Heart.

I Never Wanted Mary Poppins To Be My Nanny. I Wanted To Be Her When I Grew Up.

When A Shy Person Smiles, It’s Like The Sun Coming Out.

In Egypt, I Loved The Perfume Of The Lotus. A Flower Would Bloom In The Pool At Dawn, Filling The Entire Garden With A Blue Musk So Powerful It Seemed That Even The Fish And Ducks Would Swoon. By Night, The Flower Might Wither But The Perfume Lasted. Fainter And Fainter, But Never Quite Gone. Even Many Days Later, The Lotus Remained In The Garden. Months Would Pass And A Bee Would Alight Near The Spot Where The Lotus Had Blossomed, And Its Essence Was Released Again, Momentary But Undeniable.

I Could Not Get My Fill Of Looking. There Should Be A Song For Women To Sing At This Moment Or A Prayer To Recite. But Perhaps There Is None Because There Are No Words Strong Enough To Name That Moment.