Thanks, Mr. G-d

Everything in life follows the rule of sequence.

First comes the seed, then comes the fruit.

First comes the labor, then comes the satisfaction.

First we put in the effort, and naturally, we expect appreciation to follow.

But like all rules there are exceptions.

How many times do we give and give, and see nothing in return?

How many times do we pray and pray, and receive no salvation? How many times do we make promises to G-d, and then he just stands by, pretending to be oblivious to our desperation?

At times, I gaze into the blue and see your hand shooting from between fluffy hills of cloud.

And just when I think its coming to wipe the tears off my face and take my prayers straight up to you, it sweeps across my nose, holds my tears, my prayers, on the edges as if dirty tissues, and just casts them away into the vastness of your great big world.

Thanks Mr. G-d.

Thanks for nothing.