The Moon of Adar I (February-March)
As the earth wrestles,
as weather and life turn tumultuous
your soul calls upon the name of God
HaRachaman
One Who loves from the depths
HaRachaman,
You Who brim full with love for me,
You Who hold me tenderly,
You Who are ever pregnant with possibilities and marvels and wisdoms,
You remind me that living in a world solely of movement
unbalances me.
HaRachaman,
You Who care so passionately,
You remind me this moon gently, firmly,
of how mundane living can
blind me
steal away my seasons
rob me of my sense of rhythm
and that now is the time
to realign.
HaRachaman
You Who Mother me each moment
You give me the gift of Adar I.
Adar I is commonly plain.
She appears without celebration or song.
She comes unadorned
and in her simplicity
she speaks to me.
To slow down,
to return to ways of living with spirit
that restore me.
To slow down,
to remember
to sense the earth,
to feel her soil beneath my feet,
her soft loam steadfastly nurturing life,
sustaining me.
You remind me
to see that the ground upon which I stand
is holy
containing sparks of aliveness.
To slow down,
to remember
to sense my body
to feel the miracles lying within me
the soft winds blowing through my being
the golden light shimmering in my core
You remind me
to see my inner lands from which I move
as holy
containing sparks of beauty.
HaRachaman,
You Who love so deeply,
lovingly lead me back to myself.
Quietly remind me
of my need to sculpt space for my soul,
that I might sing my song once more
the song only I can sing,
HaRachaman.
Photography Credits:
Kathy Berendt
|
