Shavuot Poem
Intermediary objects –
tablets, scrolls, books,
It’s all code,
chicken scratches, really,
God as text, as word, as story, as law,
language is a cousin once-removed,
Meditate on these words,
Really meaning go beyond the words,
Place them upon your heart,
Meaning tuck them somewhere inaccessible,
Write them on your doorposts and gates,
Then paint over them with smooth strokes in a latex semi-gloss,
Teach them on the way,
Open up the sunroof and throw them out the window.
It is not the words,
That is what the masters always say,
But we novices have secret crushes on words like
Supplication, wave-offering and breastplate
Because words are entire worlds,
We crawl up in them like a…
like a…
like a…
womb
waiting to be birthed into the world beyond beyond.