I have some rough edges.  I go down
to daven to smooth them out, sometimes
in the embrace of a minyan,
sometimes with the melting fires of a heart
open to G d.
The center of my heart
beats a steady pulse, but my mind races
this way and that, following after
every sensual and mental vagary.
I long for sanity, for [...]

written by Reuven Goldfarb