Call a Rav. Or do you just want to stir up an argument on Facebook about whether or not it’s kosher to eat broccoli?
From the stories of the women of the Hebrew Bible I learned that I am not only me. I am a collection of women. Covered and free.
We're always talking about "it." It is glorious outside. It is a shame. But what IS this "it"?
When we are all muddling around in the dark, what will light up the night?
We need a sense of history so deep it’s more like memory.
A poem about the baby that never was. And the mother waiting to be a mother.
A story for all those who left their worlds and found another.
