Hasidic Tale

The King—always the King.
Woman of valor, where is your domain?
Your rule, your Way?

All those many lost among the trees,
dazed, beards matted, coats in shreds,
are seeking you but do not know it.

Circling, blind, groping,
forgetting that the Way
is original, back.

The Palace glows, will’o wisp
in the dark of the forest.
See: there’s a red carpet

a light in the window
the eternal cord to follow
to bread baking, warm milk.

~ Naomi Myrvaagnes ~