The Ones Who Know

They are the people

Who knew me before

I was disappointing 

Before I failed

Before I changed

Before I got better

Before I got worse. 

They are the people who

Who knew me when 

I was exciting,

When my hair was dark brown

My waist existed

My tits passed the pencil test and

I was in charge. 

They are the people who

Liked me though

I did not like myself. 

I could have been nicer

But I made them laugh

And gave good advice

And I could dance. 

They are the people

Who know me now

And I know them

We know about winning 

And losing 

And who we are now:

It’s love.   

Bless Us, The Ones Who Work

 Bless us, the workers:

Those who grow food,

Those who cook,

Those who clean, 

Those who protect,

Those who teach,

Those who heal,

Those who raise children,

Those who organize,

Those who fix the plumbing,

Those who make art,

Those who build,

Those who distribute goods, 

Those who entertain,

Those who administer,

And those who put themselves in danger

whether out of choice or out of necessity.

 

Bless us, the workers:

May we be paid fairly for our labor,

May we find pleasure in our work,

May we be appreciated for our sacrifices,

May our we receive full credit for our contributions,

May we have room to recover ourselves,

May we have choices throughout our lives,

May we not be sickened or injured in our jobs,

May we be free from sexual harassment,

May we have laughter and pleasure every day,

May we organize ourselves successfully in unions,

May we have time for spiritual exploration,

May we defy racist discrimination,

May we have responsible and ethical leaders,

May we have dignity in our employment

And may we all get enough of what we need, 

whatever that looks like for each one of us.  

Amen

Accept My Prayers

 

Ruach Ha Olam, Davening Avodah, Accept my prayers For work, worship, peace service.  It is work  Each time we gather To find meaning in liturgy and The old official words Of patriarchy and violence, Slavery and war— So I rewrite in my head To tell the stories I hear underneath, Stories of theological doubt And social obligation.  It is worship But I hate that word.  I don’t worship man-god kings, It’s absurd.  I don’t worship anything since The Beatles broke up (I’m that old).  Is this a cult? I enjoy doubt Yet I am in awe of the unknowable Whole.   I want to absorb and be absorbed.  It is service To others That perhaps is the answer to the fear And the struggles Of survival and freedom  Of peoplehood and gender.   I offer talk, comfort, questions To those who offer their bodies And their time.   It will have to do, for now.  Ruach HaOlam, accept my prayers for My work, my worship, my service With meaning and doubt and struggle  And love.  Amen.

A Prayer For Librarians

 

Blessed One-ness

We forget a lot:

Data and addresses,

Old loves and enemies,

Where we put the keys

And where we put the freedoms. 

But there are the people who remember 

Or who remember where to look when it’s time to remember—

Librarians 

Archivists 

Collectors

Even hoarders

Cataloguing the past,

Keeping knowledge safe,

Sometimes at great risk

Because the first thing dictators do

Is ban books, history, music, science, art and journalism. 

But libraries keep our stuff safe

Until it’s time to emerge. 

The monks of the Middle Ages

The archivists of the Warsaw Ghetto

The librarians of MAGA America

Are heroes

And we give thanks. 

May they have all the courage they need. 

Amen

We Were Friends

 

Three days ago 

He asked me to chastise a mutual friend who was annoying him. 

I refused. 

Two days ago  

I decided i could no longer listen to his long detailed monologues. 

So I interrupted him.  Twice. 

Yesterday 

 When he recited  his long list of rules for how his friends must behave, I said,

“Don’t be a fascist.” 

He decided he doesn’t like me. 

I remembered that I don’t like him. 

I am alone. 

Happy ending. 

Grace Before the Thanksgiving Meal

Blessed Oneness!

Bless all  who sit around this table,

Family and Strangers!

Friends and Enemies!

On this confusing Thanksgiving,

We who are about to have such a fine meal

Take this moment to acknowledge

How blessed we are

Amidst all the contradictions of history

And all the pain and despair of life,

And in our turn, we bless. 

Blessed be the eaters and the eaten,

Blessed be the feeders and the fed.

Blessed be the cooks and the meal,

Blessed be the wine and the vineyards. 

Blessed be the vegetables and the farmers,

Blessed be the talkers and the talked about. 

Blessed be them all.

Blessed be the doers and the done upon,

Blessed be the freers and the freed.

Blessed be the leaders and the led,

Blessed be the controllers and the controlled. 

Blessed be the prayers and the prayed for,

Blessed be the servers and the served.

Blessed be them alll.

Bless us,  One-ness,

All those who sit around this table,

All those with no home to share. 
All who will enjoy this wonderful meal,

All those who have no food to eat. 

Those who remember and who are remembered,

And those who are forgotten. 

Family and Strangers!

Friends and Enemies!

On this Thanksgiving,

We give thanks.

Amen

I Give Thanks

 I give thanks 

For this moment:

This one, as I am

Writing these words.  

I’m not dead,

At least not yet,

And neither are you.  

I ate today. 

I listened to music. 

I talked to a friend.  

I slept in a bed under a roof. 

Okay, this next moment, just now?

Nothing happened except for

Breathing in then out then in,

Each breath was a prayer.  

And you reading this,

I give thanks for that, too.  

Amen

Find The Lily

 

First we will listen to our Fear.

Today I am told  to look to God for company

In my fear but

I am afraid of our new leaders. 

I fear the danger pointed at anyone who is not them.

I am afraid for myself, I am afraid for you, I am afraid for everybody.

I am afraid for the future. 

And I am afraid for the people who oppose our leaders.

And now we must be strong

And I am not strong. 

Then we will only feel our Despair.

The enemy is so strong

And we are divided.

We keep losing

And this is no game.

Lives are ruined,

Animals are going extinct,

The planet is on fire,

Cruelty enjoys itself

And we can’t get away from it. 

No distractions work for long.

The grief won’t go away
I think I must say the Kaddish 

And properly mourn. 

Then…what?

There is a parable in the Sefer Ha-Aggadah,*

The Book of Legends, 

About a king who had a beautiful orchard 

Which, when he had to leave for a year,

He left in the hands of a keeper.  

And when the king returned, 

The orchard had been terribly neglected,

Overgrown with thorns and thistles.

He was going to tear the orchard down

But looking down at the thorns

He noticed among them

A rose-colored lily.

And the king said

“Because of this lily, let the entire orchard be spared.”

Listen to the fear and despair and then

Look for all the lilies among the thorns. 

Amen