The Binding

I was bound.
I took the fringes and wrapped them
loosely--
lovingly--
achingly
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
mended
a broken dish--
a broken heart--
a broken world.

I was bound
and freed
by those bonds:
loose,
loving.
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
together,
Bound them to me
from corner to corner to
Center,
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
5773