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The Raw Material of the Notes

God of the Waters of Babylon,

God of the Faith-lacking Scouts,

God of the Blessings of Grief,

God of the Third Temple,

God of the Month of Av,

God whose crown is Tet,

Turn Your ear

Toward Your creatures.


We are weeping; loudly.

We know what we have done,

But we don’t know what to do.

We watch, helplessly,

As power blames power,

As polarisation entrenches

And solution-seeking

Is trampled under foot.

We have been here before.

We dread we are living memory.


For two and a half thousand years,

Three times a day,

We have prayed

To be gathered

In order that

The wisdom of our judges

Rules over us

Through chesed v’rachamin,

Loving-kindness and compassion;

Vanquishing the enemy within,

Affording the spaciousness

For redemption to grow.

We are the people

Who build sanctuaries

Through prayers,

And words,

And letters.

And silence.


We are the people

Who know utterances

Set loose vibrations

That shake the Cosmos

Into The-Ever-Becoming,

Animated by the Moral Code

That informs it.

We are the people

Who must know

We are not the only ones

Who weep;

Sometimes we are

Complicit in

The tears of Others.

May our mourning be naked

For the sake of all of Creation.

And when our crescendo

Of grief departs,

May the cries of every neshama

Be rendered into

Notes of comfort,

In this time

Of the 10th,

And Final,

Song of Creation.

In order to fly,

Birds have been gifted

Two wings:

A right

And a left.

But it is the heart

In the creature's centre,

That enables it

To live.

Tiferet Welch 31 July, 2023


For more of Tiferet Welch's poetry, please visit her poetry channel or her Ritualwell profile.


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