Shofar

A gift to my father
decoratively displayed
it hung from a silver chain
another piece of Judaica on the living room wall.

Waiting— 
    to fulfill its destiny
    instrument of sound
    holy vibrations
    stirring alarms
    evoking ancient times
    battles
    births
    hallelujahs
    grandfathers weeping at scattered stones

Waiting— 
    for the one day 
    when I would put it to my lips
    and sing its ancient song.

Tekiah!
Shevorim!
Teruah!
Tekiah gedolah!

Playing tunes
sacred and profane
for decades
until slowly, and suddenly
the blessing I had bestowed
the gift I had given
returned.
Re-turned.
Turning the sounds around.
The vibrations
coming into my heart
reaching my soul
as if never heard before.

• May you hear the shofar wherever you are, whoever sounds it—feeling not just nostalgia for tekiahs past, but new stirrings that reach the deepest part of your heart and soul.
• May forgotten gifts in your life find true meaning and beauty as you discover them and share them with the world; and may you feel their vibrations return to you with ever-growing love, harmony, and peace.​

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