Ki Tisa

Bearing down

In fear and disconnection,

Grasping to touch anything solid,

We long to create something

We can truly feel.

Each has gazed at many mountains

Over this past year;

Peaks of the infected,

Deserts of the isolated,

Deep valleys home to

Silver River Bottoms,

Flowing with tears.

Yet here,

In Holy space

Of ether and metal,

We offer our half-shekel’s worth

Of comfort through language

As we lean into one another

At the base of a screen,

Fingers on keyboards,

Communal in creation,

Our mishkan, still

And traveling,

With The All,

Through all, right here.

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