Our Mishkan’s been built in the forest of our hearts
where embers burn from all our starts
till we are extinguished or lose our hearts,
where God’s words seem to change each year,
even though they’re etched in stone,
follow Her roots through an olive grove.
Our sanctuaries are not held up by steel or wood,
they’re a temporary shelter that never lasts,
where intermingling souls face the face of God,
who feel the power of combining prayer,
in hope of finding a way back there…
May our prayers rise amidst the tangled trees, and the
floating debris at the river’s knees,
who’re all bent to honor You!
A kaleidoscope of eyes find You in different ways,
though our lives are all tied to God
with that one, red thread that bleeds from You.
Mother of all that is birthed,
who bore us from the primordial swamp, and
enlightened us one humid night,
with Her Truth that can be true
in so many ways that we’ll never know.
As if one soul, our congregants fervently sway
in the light of God that so softly plays,
upon the days that are cloaked in grey,
as one community who believes.
It’s a blessing to be with souls who know
how you’re connected to God.
No one needs to know the where or why.
Friends who say, “May God have mercy upon us all!
Carry us through the cyclic days,
give us light so we may see!”
Our Mishkan isn’t complete
till we join together as one and One is one,
though we are in groups of ten,
under the eaves of the forest’s leaves,
where She is amidst our ragged tents and
the capture of all the spider ends.
We hope to find God within the breaking skies,
who’ll alibi us when we’re in need,
life can hang upon a reckless whim.
Huddled together we unite in song.
God is truth! God is truth!
Our prayers say so in song!
Only Her truth stays constant
amidst the impermanence of the world.
‘Facts’ flirt with reality and then are dead.
Our MIshkan has the warmth of souls,
huddling together from the cold and snow,
a community with one, shared song,
bending knee in prayer as life goes on.