Testament of Freedom

היום שלשים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות ושני ימים בעמר
Today is thirty days--that is four weeks and two days--of the omer
גבורה שבהוד
A day of strength in a week of humility

When my own words won't come, I share the words of others.
Here is Ruth Brin's poem for this week's Torah parashah, Behar.

TESTAMENT OF FREEDOM

The people of America read
about the sabbatical year
and the year of the jubilee
as a testament of freedom.

In the beginning they engraved
the words of Leviticus on the Liberty Bell:
"Proclaim liberty throughout the land
unto all the inhabitants thereof"

Generations later, the slaves,
in hopes of their freedom,
sang "The year of the Jubilo"
and "Go down, Moses."

You made us to be free;
ou set the s park
in every uman heart.

Now help us fan the s park to flame,
to light our way,.
Now help us brak the chains,
tear down the walls.

Help us bring freedom at last
to all the world.

Teachers of Patience

היום אחד ושלשים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is thirty-one days, which is four weeks and three days of the omer
תפארת שבהוד
A day of compassion in a week of humility

Patience is a virtue that I lack . . . then I look at my plants

My succulents, which looked so sparse when first planted in their box

My lemon tree, which took 3 years to bring that first fruit

Trying to retain the lessons they teach me . . . in spite of myself

In the flow of the language

היום ששה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is twenty-six days, which is three weeks and five days of the omer
הוד שבנצח
A day of humility in a week of perseverance


As I continue my daily blog writing for this year's omer practice, I also have to find time each week to write in Hebrew. I have written some posts of some of my trials, tribulations--and even a few triumphs as I continue to work on proficiency in this language that I love. (You can find them by clicking on "Hebrew" in the categories listed in the sidebar.) This year, I can see my relationship with Hebrew represented in this day of humility and perseverance.

Three years ago, I used the day of compassion and strength to write about my Hebrew studies. I ended that post with "I have the strength--and the smarts--to learn Hebrew. I need to add in compassion, give myself the time and space to let the knowledge settle in." Although there have been ups and downs, I do think that has taken place and I've moved forward in my Hebrew comprehension. When I study Torah, I can begin to uncover new meanings by looking at the grammatical structure of the verses and for a Torah geek like me, that's pretty cool.

Being more aware of the flow of the language also makes me a better Torah reader and service leader. People can hear the particular cadence and feel a connection to the writings. Part of the responsibility of a prayer leader is to bring people along with you, help them experience the letting go that prayer can bring. Having an understanding of the language helps me convey the poetry of the words, and allows the kahal, the community, to take them in and cycle them out in their voices, which is part of the point of prayer.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to speak fluent Hebrew. That's a maybe/maybe not. I worry that I won't be able to get enough vocabulary to stick in my brain. But I need use the aspect of humility to be able to learn in my time and not worry what advanced state I should be--again, the message of presence. Remember that like everything else in life, it's a journey. As long as I keep going, persevere, it doesn't matter how big or small the steps.

Define God

היום אחד עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וארבעה ימים בעמר
Today is eleven days, which is one week and four days of the omer
נצח שבגבורה
A day of perseverance in a week of strength

There is a saying attributed to Rabbi Louis Finkelstein, "When I pray, I speak to God. When I study Torah (the first 5 books of the Bible) God speaks to me." As someone who does both regularly, I am often asked about my relationship to God. My standard answer is, "Define God."

My reality is that I don't know how to define God. I like to say that God lives in the unknown. Lately, thanks to Rabbi Bradley Artson, I'm thinking that God lives in the connections we have--connections with others, with the planet, with ourselves.

I have been studying Torah regularly for more than 15 years, cycling through the same five books in one way or another. Each year I find not just new teachings, but sections of text I feel like I haven't seen before. That is the "magic" of any sacred writing, and why those texts written in ancient times still speak to people today. I am not so concerned about who authored those writings--some say God, some say people who were God-inspired, some say a combination of deep philosophers with some really good storytellers. I'm in the latter camp, but will respect others' beliefs as long as they respect mine. What's more important than the "who" of the books is the "what" that they have to offer. The teachings I receive from the words of the Torah through the myriad of lenses set out by commentators throughout the ages help me navigate the relationships that make up my life.
That is my version of God speaking to me.

In prayer, through song or words, I seek release from my overactive, wondering mind. The melodies cycle through not just my head but run through my being. I often stand, swaying, dancing in my place with the rhythms. The biblical Hebrew with the tunes from another time and place touch the seed within--the part of my DNA that connects me with my ancient tribe. Reading the liturgical psalms and poems, I get to enter that timeless stream where the past, present and future are one. Those words written so long ago engage me with thoughts of compassion, thankfulness, fullness, and peace. They serve as a reminder that while we may be walking on the edge with stability in question, taking a moment to breathe, letting go of extraneous thoughts can bring in the balance we need.
That is my version of speaking to God.

Shabbat Interlude

היום עשרה ימים שהם שבוע אחד ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is ten days, which is one week and three days of the omer
תפארת שבגבורה
A day of compassion in a week of strength

I take a deep breath, preparing to enter Shabbat
Thankful for this morning's rain and the late afternoon sun
Glad to be looking forward more than back
More aware of these steps towards revelation than I've ever been
Appreciating this peaceful moment

Invisible, Intangible

היום אחד ושלשים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is thirty-one days, which is four weeks and three days of the omer
תפארת שבהוד
A day of compassion in a week of humility

When words fail me, I turn to others. Ruth Brin is one of my go-to Jewish poets. I've used her poems in prayer services and as a way to transition from meditation. Here is one of my favorites:

Invisible, Intangible 

All the invisible things fill our days,
Music and love and laughter;
All the intangible things affect us,
Words and anger and prejudice 

You are invisible and intangible,
A God of moods and relationships.
Within us, you are the spirit of unity,
Beyond us, You are the guide to greatness. 

We pray to You with an invisible, intangible prayer.
You answer with a flaming sunset
And the touch of a baby's cheek.

Shabbat Shalom

Torah in Rhyme

היום שמונה ועשרים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות בעמר
Today is twenty-eight days, which is four weeks of the omer
מלכות שבנצח
A day of nobility in a week of perseverance

I have long felt that the Torah is one long epic poem. As someone who chants from the scrolls regularly, I am sensitive to the lyrical nature of the writings. So when I read somewhere--possibly from Rabbi Rachel Barenblat's blog, The Velveteen Rabbi, although I can't find the reference right now--that someone had translated the entire Torah into rhyme, I was intrigued, and ordered the book. It came today, and I am glad I followed my instinct.


This is not a book geared for children, although I can already see that there are times it is a bit Dr. Seuss-like. It's all there--the good, the bad, the ugly. Seth Brown has left nothing out. He explains in his introduction:

"So, there's this sacred text. This very large, very old, very sacred text. And I had the dual goals of making it as appealing as possible (for maximum enjoyment) while changing it as little as possible (for maximum sacredness). 

Now, either one of these things alone seems simple enough. To change it as little as possible, you just leave it as is, and read one of the fine standard translations already on the market. . . Or to make it as appealing as possible, you might cut out all the genealogies and legal codes, keep only the most action-packed stories, and make a movie out of it. 

To do both, thought, is a little trickier. If the Torah were a friend of mine (and at this point, we've spent enough time together that it's not too much of a stretch), I'd say, 'Hey Torah, put your best foot forward, but be yourself.' Because when you have a sacred text, it's not really kosher to go cutting out large parts of it just because you don't enjoy ark-building instructions as much as giant floods."

One thing I already like about the book is the summary, in verse as well, that he has for each chapter. I think this will be great to show my b'nei mitzvah students as they prepare to study their parshiot. While I don't expect them to write in rhyme, I think it's a good example of one way to give the context of the text in your own voice.

I won't give my opinion of Brown's treatment of the text and his translation until I have spent more time with the book. Looks like this may be my Shabbat companion for a while :)

Going for a Quiet Mind

היום שלשה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ושני ימים בעמר

Today is twenty-three days, which is three weeks and two days of the omer
גבורה שבנצח
A day of strength in a week of perseverance

Right now, I only have no words---or too many.
I'll just look forward
and lengthen my entry into Shabbat

Welcoming the New Moon of Iyar

היום אחד חמשה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ויום אחד בעמר

Today is fifteen days, which is two weeks and one day of the omer
חסד שבתפארת
A day of loving kindness in a week of compassion

Built into this practice is the realization that there will be days when the mind is blank. Rather than force the issue, I share this Ruth Brin poem, since tonight is the New Moon of Iyar.

The New Moon 

If God were the sun, the Israel might be
the moon,
her face reflecting His eternal light. 

Yes, Israel is like the moon, the moon
who waxes and wanes,
grows old, an then renews herself,
yet never leaves the skies. 

Faithfully, she reappears to walk the night,
on every room and tree and blade of grass 

Until the whole world turns to silver,
transformed from darkness to shimmering beauty. 

Yes, Israel, be like the moon,
renew your faith each generation. 

Even when the earth casts its shadow of
darkness,
faithfully reflect the light of God; 

Pour over the whole world
the moonlight beauty of holiness.

To Goldie . . .

היום אחד שלשה עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וששה ימים בעמר
Today is thirteen days, which is one week and six days of the omer
יסוד שבגבורה
A day of foundation in a week of strength

On Yom HaShoah 5665/2005, while I was not yet in the practice of blogging the omer, I did mark the day with a blogpost. I wrote about my friend Goldie Rassen, a Holocaust survivor who made it through different work camps. She didn't share much about those times, and it was only reading her obituary that I found out she had a husband and a daughter died in the Holocaust.

Goldie was, above all else, a teacher. She loved learning of all kinds, but especially Jewish subjects and most specially Hebrew. She loved teaching Hebrew, and continued to teach almost up to the time of her death. I think of her so much these days as I study Hebrew, learning the trope, the music, of the language, and concentrating on decoding the dikduk- the grammar.

I spent many Shabbatot davening, praying with Goldie at Beth Sholom. At first I sat behind her, but she then moved to sit behind me. She loved and appreciated my kavannah, my intention, in prayer, but the volume was a bit much for her. "Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses, our Teacher/Our Rabbi) can hear you, Marilyn" she told me, with a smile. I not only drove her to services, I also picked her up to go to all sorts of lectures and classes and Jewish events. And I am only one of many students who revered her.

And so, on this Yom HaShoah day, I honor my friend with a poem I wrote upon her death. I honor her as my friend and as my teacher. I will miss her always.

לגולדי  –  מורה שלי – חברה שלי

To Goldie - My Teacher - My Friend

אני זוכרת את הפנים שלך

I remember your face

אני זוכרת את הקול שלך

I remember your voice

אני זוכרת את הידיים שלך

I remember your hands

אני זוכרת שלמדתי איתך

I remember studying with you

אני זוכרת שדיברתי איתך

I remember speaking with you

אני זוכרת ששרתי איתך

I remember singing with you

אני זוכרת שהתפללתי איתך

I remember praying with you

את יושבת בלב שלי כל אזמן

You live in my heart forever

זכרונך לברכא לי

Your memory is a blessing to me

For the Last Time . . . for David . . .

היום שמונה ימים  שהם שבוע אחד ויום אחד בעמר
Today is eight days, which is one week and one day of the omer
חסד שבגבורה
A day of loving kindness in a week of strength

One week in, and writers block has already set in. When that happens, I look at the books around me for inspiration. Since various chumashim -- books that contain the 5 books of Moses, the Torah -- are always within arms length of my desk, I usually start there, looking at the reading for the week. This week's parashah is Shmini, which contains the story of the death of Nadav and Avihu, two of Aaron, the high priest's sons.

The circumstances surrounding their demise are sudden, confusing and to many, very upsetting. I do not want to go into that at this time. But what ever the reasons, their deaths are a painful loss to their family. I can feel that loss right now, since it's been less than a month that my dear friend, David Weiss, passed away very suddenly. I plan to share more about David when we mark sheloshim, the 30 days since his passing.

In the chumash that I chose to mine for inspiration, The Torah, A Women's Commentary, published by URJ Press and the Women of Reform Judaism, there is a section of poetry and personal writings connected to each parashah. In Shemini, I found this poem by Robin Fox, which expresses so well the aftermath of such a loss.

For the Last Time 

How do you know
when it's the last time?
The last time to ask
"How are you?
How was your day?"
The last time to say
"I love you
Good night . . . sweet dreams." 

You don't.
And so you must reach out
with love and compassion
at every opportunity
to show those who love you
that you care
you love
and need to be needed . . .
in a world where you suddenly find yourself
alone once again
in an achingly painful way
because someone you love
has left you behind
to seek your own paths
and truths
in an uncertain place. 

The only thing certain
is that you're not truly alone
because of those who do love you
and for that be thankful
and grateful
and feel blessed
that you were able to say
"Good night . . . I love you"
one last time.

Shabbat Shalom

היום תשעה ושלשים יום שהם חמשה שבועות וארבעה ימים לעמר
Today is thirty-nine days, which is five weeks and four days, of the omer
נצח שביסוד
A day of perseverance in a week of foundation

On this Shabbat of foundation I share with you Psalm 92 - the psalm of Shabbat - as interpreted by one of my teachers, Norman Fischer, from Opening to You:

It is good to thank you, good to pronounce your unsayable name
With morning's light to remember your kindness
With night's sky to think of your faithful heart
To sing of it with music of the ten-stringed instrument
With the psaltery, with the harp 

Because you are at work in what is I rejoice
And the physical world your hands have made
Animates in my body your preciousness 

Everything you have made firm is very great
Everything you have coaxed into thought profound
And only someone humane know this, a fool cannot see it 

When the crooked spring up like weeds
When he heedless like grass seem to flourish
It is only so that they may be mowed down 

But you
Who do not rise up
And cannot be mowed down
Uplift
What opposed you
And it falls and withers
Scatters and is cast away 

Knowing this
My resolve is strengthened
Like ram's horn freshly anointed it glistens
So that my eyes see clearly the greed of those who envy
And my ears hear patiently the confused cacophony of the world 

Those who go in accord with you grow fresh as palm trees
Grow tall as the cedars of Lebanon
For they are planted in your house, their leaves rustle in your courtyards
Even in old age they'll flourish, vigorous and covered with foliage
Emblems of your uprightness, your rocklike steadfastness
Sealed and without a crack

שבת שלום

Shabbat Shalom

Strong Women--then and now

היום שבעה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ו ששה ימים לעמר
Today is twenty-seven days, which is three weeks and six days, of the omer
יסוד שבנצח
A day of foundation in a week of perseverance

This coming Thursday I will attend a teaching given by the pre-eminent Jewish scholar, Avivah Zornberg. If you search this blog you'll find posts on other teachings of hers I have attended. Her lectures are very deep but oh so enlightening. The session I'm attending will be on the Torah story of the daughters of Tzelophchad--five of my favorite characters who appear in the parsha of Pinchas (Numbers 25:10 - 30:1). Pinchas is my birth parsha, a parsha that mentions nine women by name--something very unusual in the Torah, which was written within a very patriarchal society. These women, who I have dubbed "Women with Chutzpah" stood up for their right of inheritance. I am proud to have these strong women as part of my personal heritage. I can't wait to hear what insights Dr. Zornberg will shed on the tale of these outspoken women.

As a tribute to strong, outspoken Jewish women, I will once again share a favorite poetry jam of mine--Hebrew Mamita, by Vanessa Hidory. It is a rerun for this blog--I first posted this two years ago. But it is so good, it is worth another share.

Enjoy.....

We Are Here

היום שנים עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וחמשה יומים לעמר

Today is twelve days, which is one week and five days, of the omer

חוד שבגבורה

A day of humility in a week of strength

Today, on Yom HaShoah, I share this poem by Hirsch Glick, written in the Vilna Ghetto. I was drawn to this poem the first time I read it. It wasn't until years later that I discovered these were the words to the song that was a rallying cry for the Jewish Partisans. You can hear it sung in the original Yiddish on the website of the Jewish Partisan Educational Foundation. Click on the Explore tab to access a menu, and click on Films. At the end first film listed, "Introduction to Jewish Partisans" The song is at the end but please, watch the film, and share it with the next generations. Their strength is a testament to the fact that yes, despite all odds, "We are still here."

Never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue,
Because the hour we have hungered for is near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble,
We are here!

From land of palm-trees to the far-off land of snow,
We shall be coming with our torment and our woe,
And wherever our blood was shed in pain
Our strength and courage shall spring forth once again.

We'll have the morning sun to set our day a-glow,
And all our yesterdays shall vanish with the foe,
And if the time is long before the sun appears
Then let this song go like a signal through the years.

This song was written with our blood and not with pen;
It's not a song that summer birds sing overhead,
It was a people among toppling barricades,
That sang this song of ours with guns in their hands.

Never say that there is only death for you,
Though leaden skies may be concealing days of blue,
Because the hour we have hungered for is near;
Beneath our tread the earth shall tremble,
We are here!

---- Hirsh Glick(1922-1944)

Into the Home Stretch

היום שלשה וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות ויום אחד בעמר
Today is the forty-third day, making six weeks and one day of the omer
חסד שב מלכות
A day of loving kindness in a week of majesty

One more week to go in the omer count. I do feel that this year, it's done its work. I'm not sure if it's in the marking of the day, taking in the sephirot, or writing the daily post--maybe all three. Or possibly there ar other forces that have nothing to do with the ritual have brought about this change in psyche.

I do see what lies ahead a bit clearer. I have a direction that will guide me along for now, aware that there will always be those forks in the road bringing the need for new decisions to be made. I appreciate this time in the Jewish sacred calendar that helps me process all the life decisions that need to be made. May I always be able to tap into that flow.

With all this talk about roads and forks and decisions, how can I not share one of my favorite poems, Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

What does Sacred Space mean to you?

היום שני וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות בעמר
Today is the forty-second day, making six weeks of the omer
מלכות שב יסוד
A day of majesty in a week of foundation

On this last day of the sixth week of the omer I finish my first year of teaching at PTBE. I hope I was able to teach my students some Torah and inspire them to think about the spiritual concepts contained within. I certainly learned much from them this year, and will be evaluating what I did this year, looking for more ways to reach them. Some of that processing will happen on this blog--if anyone out there has some wisdom to share, I would appreciate the input.

In honor of this year's students, I will share a poem written today by one of the students in my Sacred Space class. I don't know that I could have come up with this when I was 11 or 12.....

SACRED SPACE

Sacred
a word
what it means
no one knows
Sacred
a tree
a house
or any place at all
Sacred
a breath of air
a beat of the heart
a death
a birth
Sacred
is a state of mind
Sacred
is an abstract
Space

Sacred Space - Meditation

היום השמנה ועשרים יום שהם ארבעה שבועות בעמר
Today is the twenty-eighth day, making four weeks of the omer
מלחות שבנצח
A day of majesty in a week of perseverance

Right after I publish this post, I will leave to teach at PTBE. In my class on sacred space with the 6th graders, I am going to teach meditation. I'm sure some of the kids will find this odd, some may act up. But there are always a couple who hear the message, who get how it works and how it can help them in their lives. They will learn that they can stop and take a moment, breath, and focus. The best lesson I can teach.......

Before I go, I'll share the poem I will recite at the end of their meditation. It's one of my favorites from Ruth Brin entitled "Invisible, Intangible"

All the invisible things fill our days,
Music and love and laughter;
All the intangible things affects us,
Words and anger and prejudice.

You are invisible and intangible,
A God of moods and relationships,
Within us, you are the spirit of unity.
Beyond us, You are the guide to greatness.

We pray to You with an invisible, intangible prayer.
You answer with a flaming sunset
And the touch of a baby's cheek.

Breaking the Language Barrier

היום עשרים יום שהם שני שבועות וששה יומים בעמר
Today is the twentieth day, making two weeks and six days of the omer
יסוד שבתפארת
A day of foundation in a week of compassion

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I have started taking Hebrew Classes with Anat Wolins at her Yad Moshe Adult School for Hebrew. While I have been studying, chanting, and davening in Hebrew for over ten years, the ability to speak in Modern conversational Hebrew has eluded me. I have taken classes, tried Ulpan immersion, and bought books and some software. I just can't get it to stick.

There is a mantra in my immediate family--we're just not good with languages. No one in my family speaks a second language. My father has some Yiddish; I can pull up some elementary French I learned in High School--that's about it.

I love the Hebrew language--it speaks to me, touches a place of ancient memory. It is through that connection that I am able to chant Torah in a way that reaches out to allow those following along, enabling them to hear the poetry of the words. One reason I want to learn to speak modern Hebrew is to be able to tap into the modern Jewish connections found in the poetry of Israel's Yehudi Amichai and Zelda. I also want to tap into the scholarship and literature that is part of my Jewish heritage. I want to be a better teacher of Jewish studies--and to do that, I need to know Hebrew.

And so, I step once more into the frey :) I know I have the intelligence to learn. I have the desire to learn. I hope I have the aptitude to learn. I can already write with the Hebrew alphabet--actually, my handwriting is better in Hebrew than in English, although not by much. I can easily read with the vowels, and my years chanting Torah help my ability to read without them.* I'm even sure I can input the vocabulary into my brain. It's the grammatical system that gives me a headache. There are so many gender, number, and tense combinations that apply to so many parts of the sentence. It's hard to imagine it coming to me naturally, to be able to speak effortlessly. But I have to believe it will happen.

When I started playing the guitar this summer, I felt I would never be able to approach playing an F chord, a chord that needs a finger on each of the six strings--you do the math:) Of course, the F chord is integral to so many of the songs I want to play, and, at the time, it felt so far away. But through the months of practice I've been able to find a way to make it work, albeit imperfectly. As long as I keep practicing, I can see that I will get better. That experience, combined with Anat's teaching style and experience, gives me hope that with perseverance, I will become a Hebrew speaker.

Imagine my joy when I combine the two, playing the guitar, singing Hebrew songs with complete comprehension.

כן יהי רצון
May it be so


*Hebrew words are written without vowels--both biblical and modern Hebrew. In this way, it's similar to Sanskrit - see this post.

Blessing the day . . .

היום שמונה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וארבעה יומים בעמר
Today is the eighteenth day, making two weeks and four days of the omer
נצח שבתפארת
A day of perseverance in a week of compassion

The words needed to express my thoughts are not coming easily these days. But this practice is about writing and noting each day, irregardless of the origins of the words. Like using the siddur when in prayer, I can feel my thoughts reflected in the beautiful reflections of others.

On this Shabbat, I share with you a poem from Marge Piercy, "The art of blessing the day," the title poem of a collection containing "Poems with a Jewish Theme." As I have been spending time looking at my Jewish practice, this poem reminds me what the practice brings to my life.

This is the blessing for rain after drought:
Come down, wash the air so it shimmers,
a perfumed shawl of lavender chiffon.
Let the parched leaves suckle and swell.
Enter my skin, wash me for the little
chrysalis of sleep rocked in your plashing.
In the morning the word is peeled to shining.

This is the blessing for sun after long rain:
Now everything shakes itself free and rises.
The trees are bright as pushcart ices.
Every last lily opens its satin thighs.
The bees dance and roll in pollen
and the cardinal at the top of the pine
sings at full throttle, fountaining.

This is the blessing for a ripe peach:
This is luck made round. Frost can nip
the blossom, kill the bee. It can drop,
a hard green useless nut. Brown fungus,
the burrowing worm that coils in rot can
blemish it and wind crush it on the ground.
Yet this peach fills my mouth with juicy sun.

this is the blessing for the first garden tomato:
Those green boxes of tasteless acid the store
sells in January; those red things with the savor
of wet chalk, they mock your fragrant name.
How far and sweet you are weighing down my palm,
warm as the flank of a cow in the sun.
Your are the savor of summer in a thin red skin.

This is the blessing for a political victory:
Although I shall not forget that t hings
work in increments and epicycles and sometime
leaps that half the time fall back down,
let's not relinquish dancing while the music
fits into our hips and bounces our heels.
We must never forget, pleasure is real as pain.

The blessing for the return of a favorite cat,
the blessing for love returned, for friends'
return, for money received and unexpected,
the blessing for the rising of the bread,
the sun, the oppressed. I am not sentimental
about old men mumbling hte Hebrew by rote
with no more feeling that one says gesundheit.

But the discipline of blessings is to taste
each moment, the bitter, the sour, the sweet
and the salty, and be glad for what does not
hurt. The art is in compressing attention
to each little and big blossom of the tree
of life, to let the tongue sing each fruit,
its savor, its aroma, and its use.

Attention is love, what we must give
children, mothers, fathers, pets,
our friends, the news, the woes of others.
What we want to change we curse and then
pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can
with eyes and hands and tongue. If you
Can't bless it, get ready to make it new.