Clean Dirt: A Prayer for Tashlich

Every Fall

The park manufactures twigs

And leaves and dirt and dead bugs and bird poop.

It's part of the yearly cycle

Like Rosh Hashanah.

Debris and leftovers,

Just normal stuff

It's all around us

Can't be avoided

It's in the wind

It's life.

Clean dirt,

Making mulch for the next year's growth

This year we screwed up

We've been insensitive and selfish and, well you know,

The usual things.

So each year we walk to the water

Ready to throw it out

Slough off the evil!

Shake off that sin!

Shake it off!

We will fling our mistakes into the water

With a grand gesture.
Isn’t this fun?

But first we go into the park

And pick up some twigs and leaves and dirt

And probably some bird poop, too.

We are looking for Green sin,

Better for the birds and the fish

Than bread.

We hold the dirt in the palms of our hands

And we see how small it is.

And each of us whispers to the dead twigs:

“Okay these are my sins

This is what I did.
These were my mistakes.

This is who I hurt

Not so big or entertaining

Not funny

Not great

Not dramatic,

But small and quiet.

Just normal stuff

The debris of me.”

So together,

Let us gather the leftovers

Of this last year's life

And cup it in the palm of our hands

And whisper to the dead twigs

Nothing funny

Nothing great

Nothing dramatic,

But small and quiet:

This is what we did

These were our mistakes.

This is who we hurt.

And let us drop this into the moving water.

Clean dirt.

Making mulch for our next year's growth.

“Cast off all your transgressions from yourselves and make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit”