The Moon of Shvat (January-February)
Come, sit in Winter's belly, rock in her primal seas,
while she croons wisdoms
to comfort your soul in this time of low light.
For when the cold wind blows, when you are little and vulnerable, your soul needs special care.
And every year of your life, at this Moon of Mid-Winter, the little one lurks
within and peeps out.
So your soul calls upon the name of God,
HaShomer
One Who watches out for you
One Who cares for you
for the welfare of your sweet, sweet, being.
HaShomer, You Who watch over me,
walk with me now in this moon of Shvat
At this time when the world around me sleeps,
when the blue of night, white of frost reign,
when gray winds and snow kissed rains sweep the earth's hearth,
and the creatures curled round in their lairs
lie deep in dream.
HaShomer, You Who look out for me,
You beckon to me this moon
To hear the silent coursing of life which flows through winter's veins,
to listen to how within the whistling winds, howling gales, and the
silence of the snow
are songs You sing
to hearten me
in this time where some life dies, some rests, some stirs within
awaiting to be born.
HaShomer, You Who tend me,
You teach me to have courage when all seems a frozen wasteland,
to stand in the face of trials, firmly planted,
to hearken to my soul's voice, You, echoing
as surely, as clearly, as powerfully within me
as the music of the winter winds.
HaShomer, You Who are my guardian,
let me be like the almond tree
who in the pitch of cold, in the seeming endlessness of winter
imperceptibly moves deeply within herself,
appearing to be between worlds, bearing no signs of life
yet within her, hidden, her sap does flow
her life force breathes, and she thrusts forth
despite the icy rains, sleet, and snow
which penetrate her skin, pour over her,
saturate her boughs,
and flowers.
It is said this moon is her birthday,
she the first to bloom in the Land.
Her light pink petals open surely, shimmering translucently
in the winter rains.
In her name, Shakedyah, Yours is woven, teaching me
that You travel close by, watching for the wellbeing of my soul.
She stands, Your sign,
that life indeed will return
even when all appears barren and lifeless.
Her flowers promise fruit to come,
hard shell protecting potential
to re-create,
symbol of mystery, possibility, she calls to me
that I too have within
a kernel filled with wild beauty
that links me to eternity.
HaShomer,
watch over me this moon of Shvat.
Help me to move
from darkness to light,
from empty branch to blossom, from silence to song,
from sleep to awakening, from emptiness to abundance,
from solitude to Your embrace.
Bless me HaShomer, as I stand.
Root me in this world.
Photography Credits:
First photograph: Alon Kvashny
Second photograph: Kathy Berendt
Third photograph: Vicki Hollander
|
