197 - Writing Psalms

One of the great blessings of my life is how people react to my writing. Did I expect this kind of response? Secretly, I hoped to become known for my work. I delighted in sharing it with my teacher, my rabbi, my cantor and my classmates. When I first began writing psalms, it was almost a compulsion: the words would pour forth, almost effortlessly. Now people write to me, or sometimes telephone, telling me that a certain psalm has affected them, has touched a place that wanted solace.

Recently, I met a younger woman who has taken my psalms to heart and has begun to write her own. Judith flatters me with her imitation. She reminds me of myself when I first began this journey. Writing, and more importantly, sharing what I write with others, brings with it certain responsibilities. I feel a divine hand in my writing, guiding me to offer these psalms. When people pray with my words, the words should elevate them, bring then closer to God. When I wrote this psalm, I wasn’t sure who the subject was. Was it God or the psalm I was writing to God?

One Hundred Ninety-Seven

Writing Psalms

You awaken me.
You sing in my dreams.
In the moment suspended between
Deep darkness and open-eyed longing
For starlight,
You summon me.

And I gather you up with trembling hands,
Scurrying to scribble in the shaded light
Of memory
The essence of my visions.

Only when morning comes will I see you.
Clearheaded and rising,
I greet the day with this great gift:
A song, a melody
Weaving life’s mystery and passions,
Given whole to praise and bless.