Topic Tags: torah

“Then the unbroken rush of praise exhaled…”

“We will collect ourselves; / We will gather in; / We will reassemble…”

“There is a tree somewhere, so they say. / And that tree has its roots in a culture / that spreads back millennia.”

“Abraham sat all night with the body of his beloved that he bathed tenderly…”

In re-encountering Torah every year, we get the joy of meeting up with beloved places and dear old friends.

“How can a body survive so much spilled blood?”

This poem is dedicated to dedicated to Vivian Silver, z”l, and her vision for peace

“So God created the dawn, painting peaks of blues and purples to the warmth of the black.”

How do we make it through the bitterness, the darkness, the uncertainty of this time? We call on what we know from that wild, rudderless, nomadic experience of being both lost and guided bamidbar.