Blessed be Our Porch

I reviewed this blog with the intention of writing more op-eds and rants and occasional liturgy and divrei Torah but instead I have written another poem. Is this a trend? Your guess is as good as mine. Here is poem about our porch and about quarantine with tiny nods to liturgy. Thanks to Casper ter Kuile, Vanessa Zoltan and Ariana Nedelman for the inspiration to bless things.

Blessed be Our Porch

My husband used to be the first to snag the newspaper to devour with his breakfast.
Now the papers huddle in piles by the door, thin and shunned.

I hear my father’s footfalls as he drops off some wine.
He does not enter.

In the mailbox is handwritten letter from a friend.

Bored children lie in wait for cardboard packages
and pounce with glee.

The doorbell rings.
We wait.
We retrieve our retaurant food from the porch.
As we scurry back inside we glimpse the back of the driver walking away.

Blessed be what arrives.
Blessed be the deliverers.

At dusk my middle daughter plays guitar while we sing with our neighbors.
Each of us from our own porch.

Dear friends sit on plastic chairs on the ground below.
A submerged yearning rises.
Their words float up.
We catch them and hold them close.

On the porch my youngest child climbs the rails.
She curls up on a cushion in the sun.

Blessed be this liminal refuge,
outside, but safe.

For its first hundred years other families sat on this porch.
We have known it for twelve years and have never seen a bird’s nest here.
Now in the quiet, a robin builds.
Blessed be his hope.

From this threshold I cast my incantations to those who prepare to exit:
Wear a mask!
Change your shoes!
Fear others!

My oldest daughter sets off for her weekly trip to the supermarket
With a detailed list and anxious eyes.

I take a deep breath as I come back from a walk,
before slowly, carefully opening the front door.

Blessed be our going
and blessed be our returning
In health
And in peace.
Now and always.

Blessed be this shelter of peace.
Blessed be our porch.

— Aurora Mendelsohn

To My Seder Guests: poem for a quarantined seder

To My Seder Guests 
Next year we will run out of Passover mixing bowls from cooking for crowds, so we’ll just keep rewashing them.

Someone will ask us if they can join us two days before the seder and we’ll say yes.
There will be a mountain of coats.

Next year we will get that old table out of the garage and clean it off and make it fit in our awkwardly re-arranged living room to make space for you all.
We’ll forget who we asked to bring the extra folding chairs so we’ll scramble with a few wheely desk chairs.

We’ll run around the table during the fun songs.
It will be so loud.
I’ll have to settle you all down to begin the next part.

Next year you will taste the produce of my garden, our local maror.
Next year the table will groan.

You will all jump in with your comments and talk at all once
and I will not moderate, but sit back with delight.
Our elaborations on the story will be worthy of praise.

It will smell like fresh asparagus and flowers
And artificially flavoured fruit slice candies.
and red wine.

Next year we’ll find more typos in our homemade family Haggadah.
And no one’s favourites will be skipped.

Our house will ring with your song.
Then, we’ll laugh at inside jokes in the kitchen as we clear up together.

Next year it will be Jerusalem here for an evening again.
I will greet each of you like Miriam and like Elijah
And I will hold you and kiss you as you enter and as you go.

 

 

 

Notes: This poem makes several references to the Passover Haggadah and prayers.

• “Our elaborations on the story will be worthy of praise” refers to the line at the start of the storytelling in the Haggadah that says, “Whoever expands upon the story of the Exodus from Egypt is worthy of praise.”
• “Taste the produce of my garden” is a reference to the fourth cup of wine where give thanks for “the produce of the field”.
• “Next year it will be Jerusalem here” is a reference to the traditional seder ending, “Next year in Jerusalem”.
• “Like Miriam and like Elijah” is a reference to the prophet Elijah who is a traditionally invited to the seder. Many modern seders invite the prophet Miriam as well.
• “As you enter and as you go” is a reference to the Sh’ma.

Closer to Fine: COVID-19 Version

A little off my usual topic, but I cope with stress by writing song parodies. Enjoy Closer to Fine: COVID-19 version.

Listen to a Recoding by Sara Borer