The current prompt at readwritepoem is "resolutions." This poem began there, though it went some places I didn't expect. It might help you to know that the new moon that dawned this week kicked off the lunar month of Shvat, during which falls Tu BiShvat, the "New Year of the Trees."

ROSH CHODESH SHVAT

I'm one of two hundred
decked in rainbow stripes and
washed Parisian silk, tefillin
like head lamps lighting our way

as an impromptu waltz
breaks out in the aisle,
a love song to creation
the dancers stately and twirling.

How the psalms of praise
chanted this new moon morning
shake the room
and leave me quivering, hands uplifted!

Here's what I want to remember:
I don't have to be thirsty.
In slow capillary trickles
sweet sap is rising.

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