Days of Awe

A Poem for 5786

Wash it clean, I say to the rain.

Let the thunderous shofar blast

Blow us into the Days of Awe.

Let us stand, naked and clean

before the Sovereign.

We have spun away.

And now we turn again to You.

We look up and try to see

Your face in the stars

so far beyond the trivial turmoil

of this weary rock on which we dwell.

Like the Kohen Gadol of old,

we step through the door

into the holiest of holy places

deep in our hearts

we whisper your Name.

And if we are very very still

we Hear, Oh Israel

The Oneness of All Creation.