A poem about the baby that never was. And the mother waiting to be a mother.
My grandmother was religious. It was just that I could not see it until after she passed away.
I thought as a religious person, a good person, I needed to forgive. But ultimately that put me into denial and deepened my shame.
A personal meditation on teshuva before Yom Kippur.
Living the life of a Torah Jew as I achingly wait to feel God in my life.
A tribute to one of the most fulfilling relationships in my life, and a now very cherished memory.
A poem about the loneliness and invisibility of aging single women in the Jewish community, together with the vulnerability that comes with being on one's own.
A fictional story about the deep need to be a creator, to bring something real into this world, something that is uniquely ours.
Who by water, who by fire? Her words, her days, her moments are being scaled.
