AT THE WELL

The Burning Bush

I remember
how it was to burn
while others
assumed
I was not being
consumed

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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

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Love 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

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Ancestral Breathing

When I was twenty five
had lost my breast
and almost my life,
I awoke to ancestral voices
calling

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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

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Guilt and Knitting

Lilith, you and I
have met before at this crossing.
I envied the way you strode, musky,
wearing purple silks

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Minyan With Mountain

Along the way
I gather revelatory rocks
with human eyes
spiraled snakes, scattered alphabets

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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

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Serach And The Bones Of Joseph

She is the box
where they
wait, watching –
an ancient woman –
who would ever
notice her,
look there?

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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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