
In this week’s Torah portion, B'haalot'cha (which means “to raise [the lamps], Miriam falls ill with “scales.” In response, “Moses cried out to the Eternal saying, ‘O God, pray heal her!’” This poem is my own prayer for healing.
To Rise
Let me rest this body
that has known pain
yet still it slips into numbness.
Let me rise,
Your right hand to guide me
and place healing on my lips,
tasting of sweetness and sky.
Oh, let me rise!
I want to soothe this caged-wing soul,
loose feathered and desperate,
let go the moments that slip through
withering and dull,
so that I can no longer feel
the glory of You,
though its shadow rests
upon me like a kiss.
I want to fly with the larks
who rise in exaltation.
They know Your secret name
and sing it, each one, an ascension
into the vastness of sky and wind,
a psalm,
a song,
a glory,
Oh! Let me rise,
so that my heart rejoices,
so that my being exults,
my body rests, secure
But let me rise and be whole.
Related Posts

Meet Four Black Jewish Leaders

Supporting Immigrants and Refugees in This Challenging Moment
