Moshe’s Poem

Therefore, write down this poem and teach it to the people of Israel; put it in their mouths, in order that this poem may be My witness against the people of Israel.
Devarim 31:19

. . . then this poem shall confront them as a witness, since it will never be lost from the mouth of their offspring.
Devarim 31:21

May my discourse come down as the rain,
My speech distill as the dew,
Like showers on young growth,
Like droplets on the grass.
Devarim 32:2

The gates are open
and in the early light
of a new year,
Moshe’s poem
distilled as dew
awaits.
I taste a drop of the poem
our inheritance,
that falls as a fine
cleansing rain
feeding underground wells,
traveling to stream,
river, ocean,
returning with heat
back into rain.

And after Moshe our teacher
had said it all - reviewed and added laws,
rituals practices, once he had exhausted
himself with warnings
that this holy practice
is not an entitlement for favors -
everything depends on how we live,
treat each other, pay attention to
and honor the Holy Breathing Matrix,
after a lifetime of radiance
from the mountain, teaching
from the straits of hopefulness and despair,
there was still more, to awaken, to transform
and so finally all that was left was poetry,
form and formlessness
dancing with letter and word -
all his yearning, love and fear
went into this his last poem
placed into our mouths, our enduring wells
for the wisdom we have always been seeking
on this spinning globe,
our shofers sounding together
of our presence in witness
facing ourselves and each other
facing our brokenness and repair
a poem in our mouths.