Gravy: Happy New Year

 

Whatever this is, now,

Will pass. 

And, sooner rather than later. 

Me, too,

I’ve had my three score and ten. 

The rest is gravy. 

This cup of coffee

This cherry red lipstick

This interesting book

This funny stand up

This prayer for the future—

Gravy.  

It won’t be fun. 

The pain that’s coming

Is coming

But so is the hope.  

That’s gravy, too. 

Happy New Year. 

Why I Light Candles

I loved Hanukkah when I was young:

Eight days of presents, what’s not to like?

But then I grew up.

I lived alone.

Who was I lighting the candles for?

Not me,

I didn’t care.

The Hanukkah menorah was for families

And I don’t have children.

And it’s a fire hazard!

So screw that.

But then I thought

What if I did the Hanukkah thing anyway?

What would it feel like?

So one year I lit the candles every night, for eight nights,

As an interesting experiment.

And every night, each time I struck the match,

I found there was a reason:

I lit the candle as an homage to my childhood.

I lit the candles because if pagans and Christians can celebrate the winter solstice, why shouldn’t I?

I lit the candles because a friend was having a latka party.

I lit the candles because fire is pretty.

I lit the candles because I used to have a crush on Judah Maccabee.

I lit the candles because I get to have Hanukkah even if I don’t have kids.

I lit the candles because, well, it was the seventh night so I lit the candles.                                                                   

I lit the candles because of all the other Jews all over the world lighting candles.

So now

When I need to see 

In the darkest of times,

I light candles.

Brucha At Achat, 

Baruch Atah Echad, 

Bless the One-ness, 

Blessing us

As we encircle time and space with meaning. 

Amen

A Prayer For Change

 

 

Blessed Ha Shleimut,

Holy Wholeness--

 

The shortest day of the year

Implies

The longest day of the year.

 

Finding light in the darkness

Means

There is darkness in the light.

 

When everyone is saying no

Inevitably           

Someone is saying yes.

 

The despair of goodbye    

Assumes

The anticipation of hello.

The stasis of grief  

Gives way to

The freedom of joy.

If there is oppression    

There will be

Relief.

Chaos frightens 

But within lies

Harmony.

 

It will get better,

It will get worse

And then it will change.

Amen

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