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I Hunger for Shabbat

I want a taste.

Right now, I don’t want the whole thing.

I want a palette whet, but not fully satisfied

Something still to yearn for

Sometimes, what I hunger for

is hunger


Shabbat is a taste

It’s not the whole thing

It leaves a palette whet

but unsatisfied

Something still to yearn for

But, what we’re yearning for, is to no longer yearn, here


Shabbat is a taste of the world to come

Where there will be no hunger

Where there will be nothing to strive for

where rest will be both the rule and the exception

Where we will be free

- from worry, from strife

Free.

In every way, free.


When we see that day, it will take our breath away.

But for now, I hunger for Shabbat

I’m happy with the taste

I hunger for the taste

I hunger for the hunger that it leaves

for entering each shabbat pining for perfection

and entering back each week again refueled and antsy to try once more

Just like:

Not all my loves have been perfect but they’ve each given me some taste of that Love with a capital L


Just like:

Every sunset has taken my breath away

but left me with just enough to keep breathing, believing

that next time will be even more incomprehensibly golden

Just like:

Every book i’ve ever read

Hasn’t kept me transported to another world with every single word, but

They’ve shown me how language can become interstellar, how typeset can teleport

Left me with echoes of it all after the last page is turned


Before this shabbat

Earlier today

I was sitting by the ocean in San Francisco

The birds were flocking by the hundreds

Ships as big as islands swam across the horizon

And while calling my brother in New York to tell him about all this glory

I spilled my bottle of water on my dress


It’s a really cute dress

And it’s also very practical

Cuz it’s made of some water-resistant nylon-y thread that kept all that water from soaking in, and instead, it made it form all these little droplets on the surface of the skirt

And in the beach-side sun of late afternoon pacific

these dozens of droplets began twinkling like diamonds

Their surface tension held rainbow reflections


Can you see it?


Little tastes of rainbows

A skirt dotted with a spilled handful of diamonds, of tastes


Not the same as the rainbows in the sky, or the diamonds in the mine

But they were mine

Enough to leave my palette whet, but unsatisfied

Hungry for more of the abundant beauty this world churns out like butter


I hunger for a shabbat of good hunger

Of showing us what it is we are yearning for


I pray for the world to come

But I dance in our little day that serves as its reflection

That sits on our week like a rainbow-diamond-water-droplet on a nylon skirt


Pressing smiles into our cheeks

overwhelmingly beautiful

and yet,

just enough, to keep us hungry for more

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