Last summer it was the 3 boys....this Sukkot it is the 4 parents.
A poem that squeezes humor and even transcendence out of my obsessiveness, ineptitude, and rotten choices. I'm guessing many can relate in various ways.
In an age where the mystics lie, the followers divide, and confusion reigns, we must return to the essential message of mysticism.
Who by water, who by fire? Her words, her days, her moments are being scaled.
Was I right then to keep it, this piece of Israel forever mine, something to hold, something to carry, like a gift or a found treasure or a stolen trinket?
Elizabeth learns to "bridge worlds", and to reject the idea of different worlds being separate in the first place.
"She knows /She has nothing to lose, /she cannot Be diminished. She is Netzach -
the victory not predicated on competition or power over another
But an inner loving-power."
Imagine a web of gracious creation woven from utter destruction.
