The Burning Bush
I remember
how it was to burn
while others
assumed
I was not being
consumed
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
Read MoreLove Is Good, But It’s Good With Bread
Begin with water slightly warmed
here, let me dip your finger
mixed with two teaspoons of magic
disguised as yeast for the sake of awakening
Ancestral Breathing
When I was twenty five
had lost my breast
and almost my life,
I awoke to ancestral voices
calling
The Reassurance of Scars
My mother and grandmother
chewed on bitterness like pungent tobacco
staining their breath, blackening
their teeth. As if in a temple
Guilt and Knitting
Lilith, you and I
have met before at this crossing.
I envied the way you strode, musky,
wearing purple silks
Minyan With Mountain
Along the way
I gather revelatory rocks
with human eyes
spiraled snakes, scattered alphabets
Vegetable Soup
Any root will do as long as it has lived a full
enough life nestled in earth-belly
has been a wide enough cistern for the making of sugar and bitters
Serach And The Bones Of Joseph
She is the box
where they
wait, watching –
an ancient woman –
who would ever
notice her,
look there?
Beginning the Book of Exodus, Or Why Retell
The Torah I seek is of mystery, a Torah which calls us to upend constricting patterns of mind and heart, retell the delusional, self-serving stories we embed ourselves in, deconstruct, disrupt for the sake of transformation,
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