Hear my song, bat kol.

We all make a choice whether we will riot or suffer in silence.

When we share our wisdom, we must be direct like a laser. A rifle is more suited for long range targets. Pistol whip for close combat.

A blade is much better, for it serves more than one purpose. To kill, cut or carve; knight, slash or slice; king, queen or knave, all serve my blade.

They say only a fool brings a knife to a gun fight. I say only the worthy will win when they wield mine.

I am my father’s one and only daughter. My father never had a son.

The river told me this morning I remind her of a 12 year old boy. That was weird so I laughed, shrugged and reminded her to finish filling in the blanks about the digestive tract.

Men in Black, agents J & K. The difference between me and MiB is that this K shifts things from shit into Au.

The Shinto called me Kitsune. The Canaanites called me Ketesh. The Greeks called me Eos. Close, but none of these are my true name.


3 thoughts on “Hear my song, bat kol.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.