Bending to Bless

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.

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