The Presence has no address, goes with us everywhere: in wholeness and in exile. This place is still a focusing lens for our prayers, though not only ours. Stories land differently when I can see the topography of spring and desert, valley and hill. To describe this place of promise, I would need God's voice: all possible meanings at once.     Lately I've been trying to spend less time refreshing the news and more time working on my next poetry manuscript.  The news is grim and there's so little I can do. Despair is corrosive to the spirit. Better to work on making something ..read more

Spring 1994: the Williams College Elizabethans outside of our tour bus. Looking back at college thirty years later, the two most formative experiences and communities for me were the Williams College Feminist Seder project (about which I've written before) and the Elizabethans, the madrigal ensemble of which I was a founding member in January of 1993. For all four of my years of college we sang together -- if memory serves, for six hours a week? We held concerts. We piled ourselves and our luggage into a school van and drove all over the Northeast (and some of the Mid-Atlantic) bringing o ..read more

Bearing hatred is exhausting. So is the constant vigilance of wondering who's going to attack next, and from which side. Of course, I have the luxury of meaning that metaphorically.  In some spaces Jews like me feel unwelcome because we insist on empathy for Palestinians. Self-hating Jew. Why don’t you care about your own people? What about October 7? (Do you somehow imagine we haven’t been gutted with grief for the inhabitants of Kibbutz Nir Oz, Kibbutz Beeri, the massacred, the slaughtered, the raped, the kidnapped, the hostages?) In some spaces Jews like me feel unwelcome because we i ..read more

On Monday a group gathered at CBI for the eclipse. When we were down to a thin golden crescent of sun, the light became bronzed and strange. The spring peepers were loudly singing their twilight song, the one we hear at seder when we open the door to recite, “This is the bread of affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt…” When the sun began to grow, the peepers all stopped singing in the same instant, as if hushed by a celestial conductor. The morning after the eclipse was Rosh Hodesh Nisan, the start of a new lunar month -- just two weeks until Pesach. Rosh Hodesh Nisan is on ..read more

  Symbols, This Year The shankbone is for houses across Israel and Gaza where the Angel of Death has not passed over. Maror for the hot tearful bitter sharp pain of hostages held underground and children imprisoned. Haroset, for mortar: Gaza bombed to rubble.  The egg is roasted like charred kibbutz walls.  Everything is dipped in tears like the sea that closed  when God rebuked, "My children die, and you sing praises?" Matzah: cracker of liberation and affliction. (Gazans approaching starvation know only one of these.) There’s no place on the seder plate for ambivalence ..read more

How do we celebrate Pesach in a year like this one? Everything about the seder lands differently after the last six months. This offering emerges out of grief and hope. No two pieces are coming from exactly the same place. There are so many emotions — even within a single heart, much less around any given seder table. On behalf of my co-creators at Bayit, I hope these prayers, poems, and works of art will help you make this Pesach what you need it to be. Click through for This Broken Matzah, available as a downloadable chapbook / PDF of liturgical poetry and art, or as google slides suit ..read more

Last night my eighth grader began reading The Diary of Anne Frank, and he paused to ask if I have ever read it. I read it for the first time in fifth grade. Probably too young, but my grandparents and mother fled Prague in 1939; I knew this history already. "It's probably the first reason I started keeping a diary," I told him. "I just got to the part where it says everyone who was Jewish was required to wear a yellow six-pointed star." "Did you not know that?" I asked, as gently as I could. He shook his head no. "Do you remember that at Nonni and Papa's house, there was one of those stars, in ..read more

Most of Megillat Esther reads like a soap opera, full of banquets and beauty pageants and assassination plots and nemeses. There’s a theme of topsy-turviness. Haman is hung on the very gallows he had built for Mordechai, and instead of being slaughtered the Jews of Persia prosper, and we all live happily ever after. But there’s one part of the turn-about that we don’t typically act out in our Purim play. In chapter 9, the Jews slaughter 75,000 Persians. The context is this: although Haman himself has been defeated, the King had issued a decree saying that on the 13th of Adar Persians were wel ..read more

"We are facing a watershed moment where healing from trauma is a generational call. How will we answer it? Will we reproduce old patterns of divide-and-conquer, especially in the face of rising tides of mental health crises and climate change? Or will we re-member and reenvision our interdependence and flow toward collective transformation? The answers, and new questions, are up to us." -- Jen Soriano, Nervous: Essays on Heritage and Healing A friend recommended Soriano's book to me as I began to grapple with the trauma I carry as the daughter of someone who fled the Holocaust. The book is ..read more

How to be universally loathed: insist on not hating. Cling to driftwood in the ocean of despair. God is here, too. The word dehumanization does not belong in poetry. Some think we're holding the gun, others think we're in the crosshairs. The waves bring our words back. We're using the same sounds but they mean something different in different mouths.       ..read more