What the Rabbi Told Me
Teshuvah… is translated from the Hebrew as repentance, but it literally means return, as if turning back to something you’ve strayed or looked away from. — Yehudah Mirsky, Professor of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies
The rabbi told me about teshuvah:
It’s what I should have done when I smashed
Sister Veronica’s flash cards into their box in first grade
but didn’t own up to the deed.
It’s how I could have walked to the confessional in fifth grade
with my little sins.
It’s not scratching out Dad’s scrawled words
in my First Communion prayerbook.
It’s asking him to play catch at least once.
It’s giving him a hug
instead of letting him shake my hand.
It’s a walk across the dance floor.
to ask her to dance and not worry about my feet.
It’s asking the blonde who lived across the street for a date
even though I was going to the seminary.
It’s what might happen if I listened to Robert’s politics
about how Trump would fix things.
It’s the courage to walk alone the streets of Florence
and find Giotto’s parking lot.
It’s answering the letters she wrote from Argentina
before the cancer took her.
It’s the years lost between me and the artist
and each time we reunite.
It’s what lies beyond passion in relationship.
It’s after the monkey-mind’s agenda
stops scrolling through my brain.
It’s the call of blue through the chapel window.
It’s the voice without words come with breath.
10 thoughts on "What the Rabbi Told Me"
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The last line reminds me of the Pentecost homily about about the breath. Also how I just told someone how comforting I find her various sighs. The whole poem is like one long exhalation.
Gaby…I like how/where you took the thought. Breath is about so much…
A beautiful list poem of regret, repentance, and “little sins.” The message is in the details, and yours leave a mark on the heart.
Teshuvah: You show it beautifully! My favorite lines are:
It’s not scratching out Dad’s scrawled words
in my First Communion prayerbook.
It’s answering the letters she wrote from Argentina
before the cancer took her.
It’s the call of blue through the chapel window.
It’s the voice without words come with breath.
LOL: I t’s asking the blonde who lived across the street for a date
even though I was going to the seminary.
Thanks Pam…even with the epigraph?? LOL
This is lovely. Yes, repent – return. That regret for what we cannot return to again. Thank you for this poem.
This is such a beautiful poem full of bittersweet sentiment. My favorite lines are “It’s a walk across the dance floor/to ask her to dance and not worry about my feet.”
“It’s the voice without words come with breath”
I love a good list poem, Greg, and this is one! Some gorgeous lines shine in their surroundings (but, I love the variance):
It’s giving him a hug
instead of letting him shake my hand.
It’s the call of blue through the chapel window.
Thank you, Ellen…my Dad really did shake hands when I was leaving the house after a visit!