Tuesday, March 19, 2013

for now I too walk in a world
that seems full of everything except you

based on Psalm 131

It’s been a while.

I don’t expect much anymore,
just go about my days,
bed to school to work to bed.

God, I used to know you were there
but I am not so sure anymore.
I have lost my pride,
my condescension toward agnostics
for now I too walk in a world
that seems full of everything except you.

Do you remember the synagogue
that seemed to have hundreds of pews
and you and I were the only ones there?

Or the time you were in the rainy windy mist
in the parking lot outside of my Hebrew school?

How about the evening at summer camp in Minnesota
where the moon set over the lake just a little too fast
and I became fearful and bowed and pleaded?

And surely you must remember when I sang to you
in a hotel room in DC during high school Model UN
and I didn’t have friends with me and everybody else
was at a dance and I was oh so lonely and I think I cried?

What about those nights at Harvard
when I would sit on the ledge of the largest library
and look out through the branches of a tree at the starry sky
with my arms around my knees in the coolness of the season
and bask in the quiet truth of being with you for timeless minutes?

I don’t think I deserve to see you
more than anyone else does. There is no reason
why I should have superior knowledge of the Divine.
But I miss you
like a weaned child misses her mother,
wondering were you ever there? was it a dream? did I imagine you?
I’ve taught myself to be contented with the occasional glimmer
of connection, not to seek unbidden,
not to reach out.
I’ve learned to think of myself
as grown up.
You don’t have to put your hands on my back as I ride my tricycle
graduate college
enter and leave relationships
Really, I’m fine
just reading your laws
wrapping on boxes
relying on memories

But I am here
waiting for you, God,
now and forever


Matt Cavedon said...


Molly E. Moses said...

Wow. "Had I not been awake" is amazing. Thank you for linking.