Born 1898
Nana slept in the second, narrow bed in my room.
Under her breath,
in whispers loud enough for me to hear,
like peeking;
like walking in on someone naked,
“Please protect…,”
she asked a man-God.
He was fallible, malleable,
there to respond to our little pleas,
a God who awaits our prayers,
Dutiful and regular
(primed to intervene at our earnest request).
He is a God of simplicity,
of uncomplication,
of whole(some)ness.
Did he show up for her in the harder moments?
Did this kind of praying
And faithful regard
Serve her or her God then?
And yet,
with all the fits and starts of wearing
the ill-fitting cloak of an
Interventionist God,
she did land
before sleeping
in the eternal unity of all things.
Shema Yisrael
Adonai Ekhad.
God is One.
Few of us can do much better.
