The Tearing

scrap of black fabric

Karov adonai l’mishbarei lev
God is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34)

There is nothing so whole as a broken heart. (The Kotzker Rebbe)

Nothing can be sole or whole/That has not been rent. (WB Yeats)

Rend your covering
from top to bottom —
the curtain of your Temple.

The world is replete with loss, ordered by chaos.
Viewed through water-filled eyes
One thing is clear:
Garments are flimsy shields, thin veneers, temporary veils.
To rend is to expose,
To make visible the broken heart beating beneath,
To make audible the violent separation of what has been so painstakingly woven,
Torn ragged by hands just strong enough to do what they must,
The warp and weft at once sundered.


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