The Fig Tree Will Bear Fruit
by Sofia Kioroglou



Going around in circles

My compass is broken

Disoriented, I search for the Light

My egocentrism, a crippling neurosis


Cut off from the Life

My visceral putrefaction

A vicious cycle of sinuous entanglement

Of subjective schemas and delusions


Like the tax collectors and the prostitutes

I beseech you not to dash me to pieces like pottery

My repentance, a humble acceptance of Your Glory

In shemayim, the sinners can enter through Your son’s atoning death.



a black line


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