Let your bookcases and your shelves be your gardens and your pleasure-grounds. Pluck the fruit that grows therein, gather the roses, the spices, and the myrrh.
Judah Ibn Tibbon
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Yesterday's Tomorrow
Elusive my vision, sliding into time.
And softly I wake 'mid settling snow
Disturbing the morning with something I know.
Off in the distance, caring for me
Who could it be this stranger?
Watching and waiting in a wholly different way;
Halting and helpless, what will be today?
Where was I when I met me?
That person I remember you used to be.
And now that I know you, the you that is me
Where will it lead, this stranger?
Where will it lead, where will it lead, this stranger?
Maybe tomorrow's wanting this today:
Gently will follow loving yesterday.
And maybe I'll know the truth that I knew.
Then maybe, maybe I'll even love you.
But now that I'm feeling the me that's to be
Enjoying in you my stranger.
Where will it lead, where will it lead, this stranger?