Through closed eyes
in a meditative
state
I hear the bird.

A comforting, sweet background
to my quiet thoughts.
What am I to gain from this?
What is the message my body
and the Torah portion
have for me?

We are in the Book of Numbers
We have just read
the blessings God has told
Moses to give to Aaron and his sons.

The memories tug at my heart.
The memory of my first husband
and our long, difficult, challenging
yet full and inspiring way back
from the wilderness
to the land of our faith.

In the wilderness we knew not who we were.
We surely cut through the brambles and brush,
we surely were bruised and bloody,
to return to the loving, caring, welcoming rituals we were to first
learn.

And the father of my children
learned to bless them on Friday nights,
each of them with a prayer designed for them.
He would bless them if they were there,
or they weren’t.
And they knew this.

What a legacy he left
of his love
that they will have in their hearts forever.
More precious than any heirloom.

As I sit in my meditation
I think too of my learning
in this time of Shavuoth
of the individual being recognized by God,
being faced with God,
being counted by God.

And I think of my faith,
simple faith,
that there is more.
An unknown, that I trust,
that I see signs of, feel signs of
all around me, and in me.

In the pauses in between
I feel pain, and worry, and fear
and then I remember to return to my faith.
And like the pause that makes me wonder if
the bird will continue his song
it ends, and the song continues.