What I Carry
February 07, 2012
for Dale
It was said of Reb Simcha Bunim that he carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one he wrote: Bishvili nivra ha-olam -- "for my sake the world was created." On the other he wrote: V'anokhi afar v'efer -- "I am but dust and ashes."
In my pockets: receipts
for last autumn's drycleaning,
tampons, tissues,
the crumpled ticket stub
from a Paris airport train,
worn from repeated fingering.
The whole cosmos unfolds --
from the Big Bang to right now
-- so I could wear these boots.
But I'm one tiny dot
on a vast pointillist canvas.
From a distance, no self matters.
The real trick, you're right,
would be to swap the papers.
Which shell is the pea under?
Maybe I'm insignificant.
Maybe I'm everything.
Watch me open my hand.