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Sounds of my Writings: The Tent Poem

It was in that first room under the fiery stars where the man heard my voice again. I laid there with him - echoing to step out and look, I’m coming again.

I no longer only dwell in the vast lands or in the mountains above, or in the deepest valleys. But, I stepped down from the highest heavens to have communion with him in that place he made in a hurry.

He found protection in you while losing comfort in me. So I spoke to Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, and even my servant Moses to tell them let’s meet with me.

A small draped sanctuary where man sought me in quiet. I called it a “tent of meeting” but they called it a house of worries.

Didn’t you know I wanted to meet with you at your home called ohel. That mobile structure that incapsulated your dreams, where all your anxieties at my presence felt. Meet with me I asked, and I will share with you my plans. But he said how can I, I am still building my mishcan.

Mobile, agile and shaded it needed to be. So that man does not trust in its foundation, but trust in me. I’m forever moving, and so they learned to move with me. A tent of meeting, a place for him and me.

The tent of meeting

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