About Me

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I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. In the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy.

Monday, July 8, 2013

The Binding

I was bound.
I took the fringes and wrapped them
around my fingers.

Fingers that had danced across
Your name,
And caressed the delicate curve of
My child's face.
Fingers that had scrubbed and
washed and cooked and
a broken dish--
a broken heart--
a broken world.

I was bound
and freed
by those bonds:
Achingly I chose them,
even as they chose me.

And I lifted my eyes to the mountains.
And I lifted my voice to the heavens.
And I lifted my arms to wrap around Your word.
Arms to comfort,
And hold dear,
And hold safe
All that I hold dear--
All that You have commanded.

I was bound
to the rhythm of the world,
Of suns and seas and moons:
A tidal pull to bind me.
An aching--
A stately--
An eternal dance.
And I was moved
And gloriously bound
To lift my voice
and my eyes
and sing praises to Your name
Under a velvet sky,
in the shadow of a holy Wall.

In the holiness of a moment,
In a sacred and tidal moment,
I wrapped the fringes around my fingers
and I lifted my arms
in the presence of Your light.

And I was bound then.
And I was silenced.
And I was herded
and hated
and hobbled.

And still--
still I gathered those fringes,
frayed now
and tangled,
I gathered those fringes
Bound them to me
from corner to corner to
To the heart of it,
The heart of me,
And I lifted deft fingers
to dance along Your name,
And offered my wearied arms
to my sister
my child
my enemy
my God,
And I bowed
And so was bound.

And in my binding,
In my song,
In my center,
I was free

For all of us, eternally at the Wall
Rosh Chodesh Av