These are the words.
The words that brought us here.
The words that shaped this hard place
We have come to know and yet, in this place
Words escape us.
בְּעֵבֶר, הַיַּרְדֵּן: בַּמִּדְבָּר בָּעֲרָבָה מוֹל סוּף בֵּין-פָּארָן
וּבֵין-תֹּפֶל, וְלָבָן וַחֲצֵרֹת–וְדִי זָהָב.
ב אַחַד עָשָׂר יוֹם מֵחֹרֵב, דֶּרֶךְ הַר-שֵׂעִיר, עַד, קָדֵשׁ בַּרְנֵעַ.
…beyond the Jordan; in the wilderness, in the Arabah, over against Suph, between Paran and Tophel, and Laban, and Hazeroth, and Di-zahab. 2 It is eleven days journey from Horeb unto Kadesh-barnea by the way of mount Seir.
Thumbtacks on the map.
Moments of sojourning.
Encounters with struggle
Where are we standing?
Where have we traveled?
Where are we heading?
And what will carry us there?
רַב-לָכֶם שֶׁבֶת, בָּהָר הַזֶּה
פְּנוּ וּסְעוּ לָכֶם
You see you are stuck
The quicksand holding you, rooting you
In a place familiar and
Yet you are too long in this same terrain.
The weight of this place, this mountain
Is growing too heavy to bear.
The mountain’s shadow is
Keeping you in the dark.
Pull your feet from their habitual treads
Forward on a new path
And leave the broken places
The walls came down and left our temple bare
Vulnerable and open to assault
We return to those ruins
And look again at what the walls protected
And what is now exposed
We step into the places of destruction
Search for shafts
Of light and
“What is the recurring disaster in our life? What is the unresolved element that keeps bringing us back to this same moment, over and over again? What is it that we keep getting wrong? What is it that we precisely refuse to look at, fail to see? The walls come down and suddenly we can see, suddenly we recognize the nature of our estrangement from God, and this recognition is the beginning of reconciliation… ” Rabbi Alan Lew
The map in your pocket
Marks the routes you have traveled, the ones
But know that the way ahead
May stray from the course
That is familiar.
It may demand that you hack your way through
The thorns and brambles.
These are the words.
That may be the meaning of life.
But we do language.
That may be the measure of our lives.”
~ Toni Morrison
Return to the words.
For words shake and sculpt
We dare to build.
The contours of
Of compassionate words
Will pave our way
Extinguish the flames of this burning palace with
The soothing waters of love.
מָוֶת וְחַיִּים, בְּיַד-לָשׁוֹן
“Life and death are in the hands of the tongue” ~Proverbs 18:21