The Nameless Naming

Source of memory and forgetting

garmenting me with skins of light,

of all names and no name, of silence

voice and the still point between,

 

Creator of opposition, contradiction,

messy seeds of the pomegranate,

bells of emptiness and sounding,

 

Giver of ordinary rock and stone

engraved with the hidden

and revealed faces of Your seventy

names and of my own,

 

Ein Sof, holy spigot, warm and cool,

flowing and narrowed, of all drought and

floods, thirst and hungers,

 

Well of death, disease, of

inhalations, exhalations,

mysterious and ordinary,

 

Havayah of my sorrows and longings,

of all I want to say,

cannot yet be,

of the endless abundant now,

 

Adonai of elusive and extravagant

compassion, judgments,

slow to forgive, slow to comfort,

 

Ha Shem of my grandfathers

whose love of mitzvot

was a buried red thread

almost completely lost, Redeemer

of my grandmothers who never

had the chance to study,

 

Shekinah, wool and wheel -

teach me how to spin straw

into golden yarn

mend worn cloth,

with patience, endurance.

 

El Rachum, you who fashioned me from clay,

make me into a vessel

that will not crack in the firing,

glaze my skin with all colors of the rainbow.

 

El Chanun of vast webs of family histories,

Spain to Turkey, Ukraine to Poland -

let their wandering names

return as winged seed

onto my outstretched hands.

 

Yotzer Or who taught my cells

to divide and unfold into organs and

limbs struggling to survive

poisoned rivers now running through

all life forms,

let me live as a blessing,

not a curse.

 

Adon Olam of my eldering,

teach me the wisdom

of the crossroads, how to deepen

like red wine aging in oak.

 

El Shaddai, creator of my aging

resilient body, make me a builder of

sanctuaries, a holy resting

place for the wounded and healing.

 

Elohim of the broken tablets, teach me

how to become a sofer, a page of Torah,

a word of wisdom, a restored letter,

a song of repair.