Your every step
can’t help but grind riots
of inquiry into the dusty dirt,
and still, you are unsure.
Your gift is a talented stamina,
an unrelenting continuing
to hunt down the whisper,
intent on catching the scent
of the Infinite.
This emptiness, this mystery,
this dead-set, this wishing,
this what-is-missing,
this inability to fulfill
a prescribed destiny,
this compulsory humility,
this unexpected blessing,
this best worst thing,
this earth-bound
not-belonging,
this ceaseless
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yearning.
***
Poem #1 in Priestess Path Cycle / Kohenet Netivot Sidrah.
***
With thanks to Rav Kohanot Jill Hammer and Taya Ma for The Hebrew Priestess.
***
Photo: Untitled by Massimo Accarino
