by Drora Matlofsky

He speaks within the clouds
Nebulous words
In a thunderous voice.
Cotton wool muffles my ears.
I try to pull it out.
What is He saying?

Flashes of understanding light up my brain,
Then nothing.

I stand there, waiting
For the next flash,
Knowing that thunder will come first,
That it will startle me.
Maybe it will rattle my brain back into place,
Dislodge the cotton wool from my ears.

I stand there.

Suddenly rain wooshes down
Right through to my bones.

Drora Matlofsky has been living in Jerusalem since 1984. Her poetry in English has appeared in various poetry and Jewish magazines and her poetry in French can be found on the Poésie Française site.

Last updated September 29, 2015