Sitting across the whirlpool
Is a blind man 

Although he must be aware
That I am there

He begins to hum
As if no one hears
I pay attention without interrupting
Then he stretches a leg

His toes almost touching mine
He resumes his song

A  solitary melody
Without lyrics

Like Michelangelo’s God
Reaching for Adam

Strangely apart
Yet together

Part of me feels imposed upon
And another full of gratitude
Of this stranger’s
Silent Gift

— © Abraham Menashe