You are the first thought I want
to have. Are you there this morning?
Can I sense you? Have I thanked you
yet today for the melody that twined
through my dreaming, the one
that sounded the way tzitzit feel
when I remember how it feels to wind
the strands of white with blue?
As the pages of my morning turn
I look for you on every one, and for
myself in every line I write to you.
Am I someone you would be proud of
right now, given what I've just done?
And how about now, unloading dishes
while my son asks again if he can eat
in front of the television? And now,
reeling with unanticipated joy, or grief?
Thank you for seeing me even when
no one else does, and in seeing me
reminding me that I am cherished
even when I feel most alone.

I'm participating again this year in #blogElul, an internet-wide carnival of themed posts aimed at waking the heart and soul before the Days of Awe. (Organized by Ima Bima.) Read #blogElul posts via the Elul tag; you might also enjoy my collection of Elul poems which arose out of #blogElul a few years ago, now available in print and e-book form as See Me: Elul poems.