In the hush of moments, Moses dared,
To ask God’s sacred name, a mystery was declared.
YHWH, the letters etched in ancient ink,
A breathing sound, a sacred link.
In the linguistics of time, vowels we’ve cleaved,
YaHWeH, as if our own preference believed.
Yet scholars and wise Rabis discern,
The breath of God is a lesson to learn.
YH, the inhale, a silent prayer,
WH, exhale a sacred air.
A newborn’s cry, the first breath they take,
God’s name whispered no sound to forsake.
A deep sigh, a groan, a gasp too heavy,
Speaks His name, in moments unsteady.
An atheist’s breath, unaware they claim,
Constant acknowledgment, a silent acclaim.
And when life’s journey reaches its last bend,
The final breath, God’s name to suspend.
A departure from earth, a silence profounds,
No longer filling lungs, His name resounds.

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