My knees creak and twinge
as I bend to bless,
waking me,
taking me
beyond formula or habit.
My soul stirs, stretching.
My feet wobble.
How I have taken this body for granted,
thoughtlessly reciting nisim b’khol yom,
assuming a flawless response
to every commanded movement.
My back lengthens
with the weight of my drooping head.
I am doubled,
suspended between
Oneness and being,
blessing.
I rise, straightened.
I plant my feet anew
in humility
and in gratitude
for complex joinings
and uncountable moments of grace.
