Tu B'Shvat
Your soul yearns to dance with the trees
You've long felt a bond with trees. As a wee one you watched them cycle wondrously,
beautifully, marking the seasons of the year
You've watched the weave of their bare branches against the winter sky,
their graceful, lacy pea green buds in the spring,
their gracious greens of summer, shielding you from the heat of the day,
and their brilliant foliage in the fall.
Your soul knows trees hold instruction on how to live life.
That you, like they, need ever reach upward toward the light.
That you, like they, need dance in your cycles.
That you, like they, need be flexible enough to move in the winds,
yet stay anchored in the earth.
That you like they, with their fruit, bring restoration to life.
You feel the depth of their roots.
You know within themselves they hold the mystery of transformation.
As do you.
Adam and Eve tasted of the Tree of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden.
From them you spring.
Now, in Mid-Winter, your soul feeling faint from the weight of barrenness
and thirsting for signs of life, she calls upon the name of God
El Ro-ei
God of Vision
One Who sees to the core of your spirit
One Who watches out for you wherever you may be.
El Roei
One Who sees,
aid me rouse from my sleep,
from my winter slumber,
and in the light of the full moon
 may my sap once more rouse
and rise
and rise
and rise
and bring me into life
again
in a totally new way.
Help me grow another ring.
Help me stir that life may quicken.
Help that which need die
shed
so there is room for new growth.
Let me be as the Almond tree.
Let me blossom in the chill of winter,
lift my branches toward the sky
defiantly, with grace, and
touch the stars, and
hug the earth.
Let me stand despite wind and storm.
Help me, for
I am awakening.
I am quickening.
Hope is rising up my bones.
I reach toward the moon's light
toward the light of the moon
moving toward life
just like
the trees dance
on their
New Year's Eve.
Photography Credits:
First photograph: Vicki Hollander
Second photograph: Alon Kvashny
Third photograph: Frank Dobrushken
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