DAY 44: SONG OF THE WETLAND


Don't bend down like the willow
trailing her fingertips in the pool.

Cup your hands, gather the waters
that flow around the reeds.

Rejoice in the sedge and bulrush,
the pussywillows and red-winged blackbirds:

small precious things in God's sight.
You don't have to live in exile.

It's all right if you tremble.
You can be both mighty and afraid.

The weeks of waiting are almost done.
Wear patience like a garment, measured.

Carve letters of gratitude
on the clay tablet of your heart.

Today is the 44th day of the Omer, making six weeks and two days of the Omer. Today is the 44th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

I looked up the gematria of the number 44. (Remember that in Hebrew, letters double as numbers, so every word has a numerical value -- and every number can be correlated with the words whose letters add up to that value.) This poem arose out of this list of the words with a gematria of 44.

DAY 43: BEYOND NUMBER


Thank God for the gift of another day.
Check the mile marker: what's the number?
We're almost there. One more week
of sifting days like grains to measure
how they fall, and then -- Torah
pouring in like raindrops, too many to count.

The challenge is making each moment count --
sussing out subtle differences in each day.
Through forty-eight qualities we acquire Torah
(according to the sages, who liked to number
everything) -- that's wisdom beyond measure.
Time to manifest Shechina this final week.

What we were withholding made us weak
until we found it was ourselves that count:
not salary or 401K, nothing you can measure
but who we are in the world every day.
Focusing on accomplishments just made us numb(er),
and you need an open heart to receive Torah.

It wasn't just once upon a time that Torah
streamed into creation. It's coming this week.
God broadcasts constantly at every number
on the radio dial, in too many languages to count.
We accept the covenant anew each day
in how we act, how we speak, how we take the measure

of who we want to be. Can you measure
up to the version of yourself who merits Torah?
What would it look like to live each day
with nobility? Everything you do this week
can wake the part of you that's out for the count.
If I ask "how is your soul," could you number

on a scale of one to ten? Number
the qualities you share with God. You measure
up. You matter. Stand up for the count --
you were there at Sinai when we received Torah.
And you'll be there again in one short week.
Torah comes to us on the fiftieth day.

Treasure the numbers that make up Torah.
Take the measure of your heart this final week.
Count reasons for gratitude, every day.

Today is the forty-third day of the Omer, making six weeks and one day of the Omer. Today is the 43rd day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In the kabbalistic framework, today we begin the week of malchut, sovereignty / nobility / Shechina. Shechina is the Jewish mystics' term for the immanent, indwelling, feminine presence of the Divine.

The lines "What we were withholding made us weak / until we found it was ourselves that count" are a nod to Robert Frost's The Gift Outright.

We're entering the final week of our journey. What is that like for you?

DAY 42: TORAH IS HER NAME


Torah quenches thirst on a hot day.
In space there's no oxygen, but there is Torah.
Remember hearing lightning, seeing thunder?
God invited Moshe ben Amram to climb Horeb
to taste and see that Torah is good, sweet
as honey smeared on parchment. Wait, I misspoke:
at Sinai we heard nothing. All God spoke
was the silent aleph at the very beginning.
Because every soul was at Sinai, we all know
the secrets of creation. There's no before
or after in Torah: it's a Name of God
no matter how the letters are arranged.
Moshe ascended to heaven, watched
as the Holy One handwrote a Torah scroll
painstakingly adorning the letters with crowns.
Adoring the letters is our job—isn't that
what the rabbi would say? Torah is Her name
and if we can't touch the thing itself,
we can sing to the signifier as we waltz.
Yisrael v'oraita v'kudsha brich hu chad hu—
we and Torah and the Holy One of Blessing
are one. God's own letters, building blocks
of creation, are encoded in our DNA.
Take Torah in—spicy as horseradish, crumbly
as a meal offering drenched in fine oil—
and exhale the Name on every breath.

Today is the 42nd day of the Omer, making six weeks of the Omer. Today is the 42nd day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Today's poem was inspired by one of last year's NaPoWriMo prompts, which invites the use of twenty little poetry projects.

Horeb is another name for Sinai.

The idea that the only thing God spoke at Sinai was a silent aleph comes from a beautiful teaching of the Ropcyzer rebbe.

Yisrael v'oraita v'kudsha brich hu chad hu is from the Zohar, and is the assertion that we, and the Torah, and God, are all one.

DAY 41: FOUNDATION


Whether slab or basement
or crawlspace's neither/nor

in-between, fit intention
to where you'll be rooted.

Know how deep
you need to sink your pilings

how broad a base will hold
what you yearn for.

Imagine the gilded spans,
the dazzling skyscrapers,

the homey octagon
constructed from driftwood...

From this footprint
where will you go?

Today is the 41st day of the Omer, making five weeks and six days of the Omer. This is the 41st day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm, today is the day of yesod she'b'yesod, the day of foundation within the week of foundation. That's what sparked today's poem.

DAY 40: TERUMAH

after the Degel Machaneh Efraim

When Torah says
tell the Israelites to bring Me
gifts for cobbling together
My patchwork residence

(gold, silver, and copper
crimson and cerulean yarns
acacia wood, bolts of linen
tanned leather and dolphin skins)

read instead
tell the Israelites to bring Me wisdom
which takes as long to gestate
as Moshe spent atop the mountain

I want you to bring Me
your wholeness, your completion
the quality of ripeness which accrues
after forty days of growth

each of you is a Torah,
a transcription of My holy name
other names merely reference,
sign pointing to signifier

but I and My Name are One
which means you are too:
you're part of Me
always cherished

even when you wander
in the wilderness
even when Sinai feels
impossible to reach

Today is the 40th day of the Omer, making five weeks and five days of the Omer. It is the 40th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

Today's poem is inspired by a teaching from the grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, the Degel Machaneh Efraim, about the Torah portion Terumah. (See Terumah: The Torah of 40.) I am grateful to my hevruta partners Rabbi Cynthia Hoffman and Rabbi David Markus for studying the Degel with me. They keep me learning, and that is a gift beyond words.

DAY 39: REOPENING THE WELL


The well won't run dry.
You might have to scoop chalky dust
with your hands, remove
the rock that's wedged in the channel

but the water is there.
The water wants to flow.
Can you feel it beating
against your breastbone, urging

you to let it surge free?
Dig the channel again
and drop the plumb line
as far as the string will go.

These are things which have no limit:
the reservoir of blessing
the ocean of Torah
the depths of your human heart.

Today is the 39th day of the Omer, making five days and four weeks of the Omer. Today is the 39th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

According to one Mussar paradigm, today's middah or quality to cultivate is "leading others to truth." That made me think of leading others to water, and to the connections between water and Torah. That's what sparked today's poem.

DAY 38: BURDEN

a psalm of comfort

Set down your pack.
Wrap your arms around your chest.
Let your shoulderblades unfurl like wings.

Let me rub the knots from your palms,
smooth the shadows from under your eyes.
Lean back: my hands are here.

Your fragile glass heart is safe.
The light that shines through you --
I don't want you to hide it away.

The stones you're lugging, both whole
and broken: they're mine too.
You're mine too. Let me carry you.

Today is the 38th day of the Omer, which makes five weeks and three days of the Omer. Today is the 38th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, between liberation and revelation.

Today's poem was inspired by one of the qualities Pirkei Avot says is required for acquiring Torah -- carrying the burden of one's fellow. (It's actually mapped to the 37th day, not the 38th, but yesterday's poem took me in a different direction, so I wrote about it today.)

Can you think of a time when you took on, or wanted, to take on a loved one's burden? What gifts did you find in that act?

DAY 37: PRAIRIE WEDDING


Driving west from Massachusetts
to Seattle, I noticed
a shift midway through Minnesota.
The beginning of prairie. The skies opened up
like my memories of Texas, sunset
a great splash of watercolors
across the most immense canvas.

There's a tipping point.
The gravitational pull of destination
becomes stronger than the origin story.
Where we're from is old news.
But where we're going -- !
The Goldene Medina, the Wild West
the promised land.

Wheels hum on asphalt like a sruti box.
Roll down your window: can you hear
faraway music at the encampment?
It's your wedding band, and mine. Not
a Moonie mass marriage, the real deal:
God in tuxedo and tails (or white Irish lace)
and you with your heart on your sleeve...

Afterwards we'll each remember
standing face to face with the Holy One
beneath the chuppah of the inverted mountain --
or were those just streaks of painted cloud?
Ketubah handwritten on parchment.
The skies opened up and Torah unfurled
like gentle longed-for rain.

Today is the 37th day of the Omer, making five weeks and two days of the Omer. This is the 37th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

Midrash depicts the revelation of Torah at Sinai as a wedding with God as the groom and Israel as the bride. One midrash says that Mount Sinai was held above us -- perhaps as a threat, or perhaps as our wedding canopy.

This poem borrows its title from one of my favorite Mark Knopfler songs of recent years.

Rabbi Arthur Waskow has suggested that one way to understand the name Torah is to relate it to yoreh, the first longed-for rains of the fall season after the long, hot, dry Middle Eastern summer.

DAY 36: SIX


Six days of         creation before pausing.
Work-day, week        -day, ordinary time.
Incomplete without the         capstone, the adornment:

silver candlesticks and         braided egg bread,
six sweet psalms        representing the week
then the hymn            welcoming what's holy.

Penultimate. Bridesmaid, never         the Shabbat bride.
Six isn't special        doesn't have meaning
of its own        without what follows.

Here we are        beginning week six
clock not yet        striking midnight's chime
there's still time        to open up

let go and        let God in.
The sixth week        begins right now        
what new gifts            might it bring?

Today is the 36th day of the Omer, making five weeks and one day of the Omer. Today is the 36th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

DAY 35: SACHIA MATA


Sand in the air.
A battered white Ambassador
drove through scrub
past gabbling cranes.

The driver pulled over.
With a steady stream of pilgrims.
we took flight
after flight of exterior stairs

passing ornate archways
festooned with marigolds.
Beneath each carved gate
families posed for snapshots.

At the top: smoke curling
toward a ceiling fragmented
with mirrors, a smudge of saffron
on every forehead...

What will we find
at the top of this ascent
after we pass through
the Omer's 49 gates?

Today is the 35th day of the Omer, making five weeks of the Omer.

When I thought about going through the "gates" of these 49 days, I remembered an impromptu visit to the temple of Sachia Mata in the town of Osian many years ago. I wrote about that visit for Zeek -- There and Back Again: A JuBu's Passage to India.

DAY 34: UNSPOKEN

At the edge of the sound
wind flaps our coats like sails.

Sand shifts beneath
our inappropriate shoes.

Your shoulder touches mine
there and then gone.

We don't have to try
to match our strides.

Our hearts beat in tune
leaping like lambs.

God is in the words
we don't need to say.

Today is the 34th day of the Omer, making four weeks and six days of the Omer. This is the 34th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm today is the day of yesod she'b'hod, the day of foundations or rootedness or connections within the week of humble splendor. This poem arose out of a sense of yesod as the connections between people who are dear to one another.

33: GOOD


The thirty-third word in the Torah
is "good." After each act
of speaking the universe into being

God paused and saw the good.
Light is good. Darkness: good.
Also the balance between the two.

Every geological feature.
Every seed and spore and fern.
The dinosaurs were good, until

they weren't. The Great Auk,
the Atlas Bear...God must spend
eternity reciting I love

what comes and I love what goes.
That every story has an ending
must also be good, at least

from God's vantage where each drop
rejoining the river at the base
of the waterfall is coming home.

Today is the 33rd day of the Omer, making four weeks and five days of the Omer. Today is the 33rd day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Today is Lag B'Omer, a minor festival within the Omer count. The syllable lag, in Hebrew, is spelled לג –– the number 33. (So Lag B'Omer just means "The 33rd Day of the Omer.") You can read more about this festival in my Lag B'Omer category.

I learned the teaching about the 33rd word of the Torah from a Hasidic text by the Bnei Yissaschar, and it inspired today's poem.

DAY 32: SING PRAISE


Let the gurgle of the coffee pot
as it approaches completion sing praise.
Let the percussive pop of the toaster
revealing the rough and craggy surfaces
of English muffins sing praise.
The jangle of silverware in the sink.
The glide and click of the dishwasher drawer
pulled out to be laden with glasses.
Let the key in the ignition sing praise.
Let the hum of the motor sing praise.
The gavel on the sounding block.
The orchestra of hospital machinery
monitoring blood pressure and O2 sats.
Let the rattle of pills in the jar sing praise.
Let your fingers on the keyboard sing praise.
The paper in the printer, the ring
of the cellphone, the two-part beat,
beloved, of your heart.

Today is the 32nd day of the Omer, making four weeks and four days of the Omer. This is the 32nd day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

This poem was sparked by one of last year's NaPoWriMo prompts, the one which invited us to write a poem using the poetic device of anaphora.

DAY 31: SEVEN STOPS


The Zohar says
after death
each soul is judged
seven times.

Pallbearers make
seven stops
on the way
to the grave

which means
our progress
shambles, pauses
begins again

as though
we were reluctant
to reach
that destination.

Seven: the days
of the week,
the colors
of the rainbow

seven weeks
of the Omer
between Pesach planting
and Shavuot harvest.

For what
will you be judged
when your journey
has ended?

Today is the 31st day of the Omer, which makes four weeks and three days of the Omer. This is the 31st day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

I learned the teaching that the Zohar says the soul is judged or tested seven times after death from Simcha Raphael's Jewish Views of the Afterlife.

DAY 30: WHAT THE CREATOR CREATES


A gazelle, sprinting. The graceful neck
of the giraffe. Seahorses bobbing gently,
fluorescent in their tank. These
are easier to love than the spiny echidna,
the scorpion, the swarm of carpenter ants.

Can I cultivate care for the cactus
which pricks the tender flesh of my hand?
For the kid who shoved my child
on the playground and called him names?
The politician whose positions make me squirm?

Hillel says: even these deserve Torah.
Akiva says: love the other as yourself.
Everything else is commentary, so go
and learn. I want to learn
even from the rattlesnake in the dry grass.

Everything else is commentary, so go
and love. I want to love even the echidna,
even the angry internet troll lobbing missiles
from under his bridge. Cup her spark
of goodness in my hands and gently blow.

Today is the 30th day of the Omer, which makes four weeks and two days of the Omer. This is the 30th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In one Mussar paradigm, today is the day to focus on אוהב את הבריות, Loving God's Creations. I found myself thinking about how some creations are easier to love than others. That's what sparked today's poem.

DAY 29: LOVE GOD


To love God -- that's a tall order.
Does the Milky Way notice me?
The Horsehead Nebula? If I'm a speck
of dust compared with their grandeur
how much smaller I must seem
to the One Who made them. And yet --

the mystics say the world was born
because God was lonely. She wanted
to sit in her rocking chair and chat
while She knitted the sunset clouds.
How could I not love the One Who whispers
exist! and the daffodils bloom?

Today is the 29th day of the Omer, which makes four weeks and one day of the Omer. Today is the 29th day of our 49-day journey between Pesach and Shavuot, liberation and revelation.

In one Mussar paradigm, today is the day for cultivating the quality of אוהב את המקום, loving God. Our daily liturgy instructs us to love God with all our heart, all our soul, and all our might. But what does it mean to love God? That's the question which prompted today's poem.

DAY 28: MAGNETIC NORTH


The beacon at the mountaintop
sending in perpetuity:

the original number station, though
these numbers made up words once,

from "when God was beginning"
to "in the sight of all Israel."

But the letters are still streaming,
the fountain unstoppable.

What's the broadcast now?
Be kinder to each other.

A perennial Let there be:
from quarks to the whorl of galaxies.

I keep tuning my dial, listening
through the static

for the tug toward Sinai, step
after uncertain step.

Today is the 28th day of the Omer, making four weeks of the Omer. This is the 28th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Today's poem took its form from one of Luisa A. Igloria's prompts from last year. She asked, "What is your magnetic north? Write a poem in which you describe it; also describe how it feels to write/work your way toward (or away from) it." This is what arose.

The two phrases in quotation marks are the beginning and end of the Torah, respectively.

If you're unfamiliar with numbers stations, here's a good introduction. (Bear in mind that Hebrew letters double as numbers.)

DAY 27: LABYRINTH



Do you know your way through?
Did you remember your spindle of string?
    Are you watching your own footsteps carefully?
    Is it difficult to keep your pace slow?

        Why are you walking this path?
        Do you realize there's no way out?
                    Will it bother you to turn around at the center?
                    Does the landscape change with your vantage?

                     Does the landscape change with your vantage?
            Did you expect that particular twist?
        Did you know you can still be surprised?
        Can you draw an accurate map?

    Do you know what you'll keep from the journey?
    What kind of souvenirs can you carry?
Did you intend to travel without pockets?
Do you know your way through?

Today is the 27th day of the Omer, which makes three weeks and six days of the Omer. This is the 27th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Today's poem was originally drafted as a list of 20 questions, and the visual prosody nods to my experiences walking meditation labyrinths. The purpose of a meditation labyrinth isn't to find the way out; it's not a maze. There's only one way in and one way out. In a meditation labyrinth, it's all about the journey.

Of course, the same can be said of the Omer. And of most things, really.

Shabbat shalom to those who celebrate.

DAY 26: FOR THE BONES


For the bones we carry along the way,
   the stories our grandparents told us, impressed
      like a seal on the wax of our hearts: give thanks.
For the taste of haroset which lingers for weeks.
   The rhythm of footsteps, the pull to move forward
      though the sea licks our ankles. The waters will part.

When we dance, when we notice the stars overhead
   and draw new constellations: the leader, the timbrel
      then our ancestors' struggles were worth it.
The path from constriction to covenant calls

-- keep on walking.

Today is the 26th day of the Omer, making three weeks and five days of the Omer. This is the 26th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

Today's poem was inspired by a prompt from last year's NaPoWriMo, the one for the 26th day of the month (since this is the 26th day of the Omer) -- to write a curtal sonnet.

DAY 25: EVEN IF


Even if this is the path you're meant to walk
no one promised pedicures and crumpets.
Don't you think the children of Israel struggled
under the weight of not-knowing what lay ahead?
Resting when the cloud of glory paused,
and marching when it lifted, no questions asked?
No door worth opening, no journey worth taking
can be wholly mapped in advance. No one knows
(except for God) what's on the other side.

This is the 25th day of the Omer, making three weeks and four days of the Omer. This is the 25th day of our 49-day journey from Pesach to Shavuot, liberation to revelation.

In the kabbalistic paradigm this is the day of netzach she'b'netzach, the day of endurance within the week of endurance. This poem is an acrostic; if you read vertically down the first letter of each line, you'll see its theme.