As I draw my tallit over my head
my favorite part of the service begins.
I make sure the folds extend well beyond my periphery
Like blinders on a charger.
Now it’s just You and me, God.
Earnest entreaties, whispered wishes, secret smiles,
Sharing intimate moments in our solitary encounter.
As a child I would sit cross-legged under the bed covers,
My own private Sanctum Sanctorum
Dim flashlight my own Ner Tamid.
Creating special moments which were mine alone.
Scribbling in my not-so-secret journal,
Exulting in the Adventures of Superman.
I never knew it was more crowded than I thought
Were those stolen moments all leading to this?
Truth is, You are always a breath away
But these times feel special
As we form a shoal
in the torrent of humanity
surrounding us.
You and I, God. As it always was.
