Omer Tarin

  ''Not many people have heard the angels singing at dusk'', he informed me in his quiet way, ''Some have only heard of them''. Where I used to live there was an ancient tree vast in its girth spreading its branches wherever its roots wanted to go;   When I was young where I once used to live they often came there to sing; and I saw them and heard their singing too; The hoar old branches would bend when they sang and the fluttering birds in my soul also burst out in fiery chorus to forever engrave their song upon my innnermost being;   Once or twice, a badger came to light hiding behind the bushes, softly humming the refrain unaware I was intruding on his orisons;   I like badgers, with their bristling furs and furtive ways- on moonlit nights they transform into silvery rays of moonshine, rather mysterious and unreal;   I like badgers, who worship without being seen;   Some nights we talked, badgers bi...