High Holy Days are hard - important, and hard. The rabbi said the day is a beginning, a real beginning of a new world. I took that to heart this year. I believe every day is a beginning of a new world. There are so many choice points. So many ways to consciously or uncounsiously create healing or hurt. I try for healing, but often create hurt. I strive for consciousness but often miss. Even when I act out of love, in best consciousness, in highest intention, it is not always - not even often - enough to heal the hurts of those I love most. And still, right now, with fall light softening and the colors of tonights sunset still unkownable, I have another new beginning - another chance. May I use it for good.

Outside

I'm not Jewish enough
not raised with enough
Hebrew or the words
to all the chants inscribed
inside my eyelids. the
blessings do not dance to
my lips like wind on water.
I never quite know if I chant
too loud or sway too far or
reach with too much hunger
toward the Torah, toward
community with people who
claim me, know me, own me.

Inside

Under my prayer shawl,
chanting in the minor
key of yearning, wordless,
I sway and bend
like a cypress in wind,
I am and do not pretend.
I am, if not Jewish enough,
human enough, inside.
under my prayer shawl.