Let I,
Me,
Us,
We,
Come awake to this inviolable truth.
We can be brand new.
I follow in the footsteps of King Solomon.
I am for my beloved and my beloved is mine.
Hearts intertwined,
I am ten thousand brides on a magic carpet ride in flight toward the glory of restoration.
Let us be sanctified vessels.
The subtle truth is so elusive it slips like water through my clumsy-hearted fingers.
Let us remember we are fashioned from the miraculous.
We convene in the star-strewn field of possibility in magnificent communion with you,
Guided by consecrated constellations of virgin soil beneath our bare feet,
Night blind and moon drunk.
Hopeful in our brokenness we relinquish the dangerous safety of cleverness.
Rebuild us fearless in our willingness to know we know nothing.
We can be brand new.
Let us be love.
Open our fists.
Turn our palms skyward to receive.
We shake off the label of soldier.
Disengage from the nonstop onslaught of battles we can't even understand.
Love struck,
We will fight the good fight.
Warrior shamans of light in our own right.
Bless I,
Me,
Us,
We with resilience.
Fortify our hearts against opposition.
We teeter on the brink of dazzling emergence.
Allow us to free fall into the river of brilliance,
Flowing unendingly from the depths of divinity into Eden,
Into the garden of matter,
Into the field of possibility.
Reinstate beatific order from chaos as we listen to King Solomon.
Look to the ant,
Consider her ways,
And be wise.
Ponder the wondrous waggle dance of bumblebees,
The impossibly synchronous star walks of fireflies.
Reveal our true nature.
We are all divine emanations,
Each of us a blessed letter emblazoned in sacred text.
Made ready,
We will shine one beautiful moonbeam at a time until the world is bathed in radiant splendor.
Give us the ears to hear the celestial blast.
Give us the eyes to recognize we were made for creating,
For marvelous coherence.
Oh,
Glorious conductor of the symphony of us,
The walking wounded healers holding on to one another for dear life,
Faithful in our knowing that the greater the darkness,
The greater the light it precedes.
Crack ourselves open.
We will cleave to the divinity of the vaykut,
Make us mekabel.
Receiving in order to give is the purpose of creation,
Experiencing goodness is what we came for.
We are engaged in ecstatic preparation.
We can be brand new.
We have but one true vocation to expose our indestructible souls.
Beloved,
I,
Me,
Us,
We beg you.
Throw open the windows to our tears.
Immerse us in the mikvah of weeping.
There is nothing as complete as a broken heart.
The more shattered we are,
The more whole we can be.
We wail and kiss a fragment of wall,
Dream of rebuilding again.
No suffering is in vain.
Show us the infinite through limitation.
Unwrap the gift of our holy homesickness.
Allow us to climb into your intimacy.
Let us feel the sweet relief of not having all the answers.
Let us know yirah in the star-strewn field where we meet you before the gates close.
Hold us in a slow dance,
Ecstatic embrace.
Fill us with emunah.
We can be brand new.
