Zenobia: Empress of the East: "I Am Not My Body. I Am My Mind" (Updated)

Thank you Judith W for this article:  Zenobia: Empress of the East: "I Am Not My Body. I Am My Mind" (Updated) ... for reminding me of when I met Prof Rita Levi-Montalcini at a lecture in 1975(?).

I was in graduate school exploring the fine structure of inter-cellular "social networking" what I dubbed "neuroecology" a decade later at the Hadassah University Medical Center in Jerusalem , Israel (to the amusement of many colleagues and long before it became a field of study in its own right.

Would I say, looking back, that I had erred by not accepting her invitation to visit her lab at Washington University in St Louis?

No regrets.  I was young and foolish, very much in love, newly married, not to be long apart, and St Louis seemed like the other side of the world . . . .

when everything old, is, also, new again, then

yes, I am distracted, by remembering
the forthcoming
visit
of my dearest 80-something
Professor and spiritual father
(a qualified title which he abhors
, as a life-long atheist,
fair and natural,
as the son of Vladimir Heifetz,
the Jewish pianist composer orchestrator,
and an imperious Russian Orthodox royal
anti-Semite vocalist mother

I thought I'd have a path to bring the voicing
back into science with an idea for an experiment,
an empirical exam that would bring us closer
to the edges of knowing
from the side of trying

Coming to me as if
from above
as much as one can, in such an environment,
subtly,
so that the results emerge from within the data
allowing the conclusion itself
to demonstrate,
to show, if not to (dis)prove

yes, Hashem has given us such great gifts
received with gratitude, deeply grateful
resonance
from knowing that they are
from the Source
Itself

So, into the humming, rumbling,
(or is that my tinnitus?)
future, I go
as a pleasant sostenuto,
how a violin in crescendo
might end a lost symphony,
not a loud cry
but a sustaining tone
resting on a heartbeat
against the wind made percussive
merged
into the mouth of forgetfulness
pianissimo
memory above time
commo ad infinitum

edges of knowing(not); 3months, 1/4 cycle, for T.

Go back to The Garden
where you first saw
The Tree of Knowing
and kept a safe distance

Return again, and this time,
let Adam
pluck from the living wood,
This time let Eve ask 'If' not 'How'
and engage with him,
now knowledgeable man,
in intelligent conversation
while our Omniscient and
All ways loving G()d
is still, within,
hearing,
 reach

Then, when this first couple
know the sound of Hashem,
G~d himself mainfesting//LLVD//manifesting,
rustling the bushes in the Garden
as usual
 towards evening,
When, then they hear His Voice, as if a question:
"Where are you?"
Then both would rush towards
arm in arm
both clothed and ashamed.
Not of their nakedness, but of their own undoing,
not cowering behind cobbled together excuses,
lies, mutual accusations
involving a snake,
But, what if, if even as they sprang forward
begging forgiveness, cowering, not bold,
making tshuva, placing sorrow and errors into one basket,
the first corban, prefect humble
presenting to the Master of the Universe
begging, beyond asking for rachmanus,
for having fallen into the black hole of doubt,
took, plundered!
 when all had been at their fingertips
{so much like we do
over and over
with new love made old
and discarded}

How would it have been, then,
and now!
if not then, but now?
 If
~~~
I will keep the blood red golden hearted apple
the yellow streaks of a simple delicious
gathered into the perfect form
No! Not my imagination,
although it predated Pinterest
and Instagram,
there are a few
digital
images
[[(ask, and they are yours, all that's left
for the apple is gone, not even buried,
but trashed)]]
Then, innocently, it entered my grasp
totally unsuspectingly, me turning over
fruit, while shopping at Supersol
now Supersol Deal, Yashir, and Shel'li

Yet another gift ,
in form of reminder to me
that it was meant to be
and be gone

Easy to think so
to thank you from afar,
as ever, as if forever.

No need to worry
Of course, I'll always love you,
like one of the not-a-songs
that we played as if together

yes, the distance~time grows greater and easier
daily, but for foolish longing

no, I would not expect you to answer
if I wrote,
although as my muse, I still have the earworm
of your niggun
now almost inaudible
envisioning
your fingers on the keyboard
flying, soaring,
magic carpet Like
caressing to carry and embrace
sustained voice
piano keys as wind
instrument,
harplike resonance
no longer watching
actually dancing
in song applaudable

While working late/early: 01:23 in e-talk w Rebbesoul, on the Am Israel Project

when day begins

shall we count time by this clock
or shall we know the day/night as it is?
(un)cloaking our souls? ancient formulae?

Did not star pierced night begin the new day
with a blazing greeting, as the sun descended
in a red purple glory, promise of a new awakening,
carrying into sleep, through dreams,
erev, hours ago from now.

Does not the Earth bow so the Sun may rise
bringing morning light, shachrit,
with its golden red revealing bright
that will obscure the dark with its light,
boker, hours into the future (from) now

so this clock
does have its uses
in counting, between,
what was
&
what will be
from now to now
through then.

so to work
or to sleep
All G()d's Children

Am Israel Chai Project http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=49872076268

A thoughtful anon single's unknowing haiku on age difference in finding one's b'shert (mat{c}h made in Heaven).
his linearity was sound sculpted herein revealing . . . .


Your profile is very nice,
and the photos are lovely.
I wish I were
15 years younger.

To G()d's unborn children. For teamster on FRUMSTER

as if, caught unawares,
the eyes have it, as if
giving way to soul and translucent being
when it is the voice that sings the soul,

and you, faceless
"faceless bureaucrat - picture available?"
if so,
then do
kindly send, to givengett@gmail.com
or make me privy to the password,
(still) protected

for if not for me, then perhaps for another
within a shared domain
for we do know that it is Hashem who makes
a Shidduch, and we, there to be anointed
or to pass the gauntlet

Thank~full. new be(e)ginning

First thanks to Hashem for all, for every kind offer,
opportunity
which I i accept w hope

No excuses, but . . . .
yes, "but" usually does
signal a sea change -
i submit that
My own life has been
like trampoline
jumping,
actually
the physical image is
more like
being
tossed in the air
on a semi-elastic blanket
held taut and raised at
the exact
moment
to ensure maximum height,
fall,
and optimum support.
Four people, strong, thoughtful, responsible, experienced,
...great fun for the child self, as, geometrically generates
all sorts of ways, to be propelled
upward airborne and to land
on the elastic surface
knowing that those corners will not fail me, are being held tight.
In short: faith grows with imagination and experience,
but not always as expected,
or planned.