Teshuvah

Why all this talk about “Surrender?”
You returned before you were born.
Had you not abandoned your soul to darkness,
this dew-sealed morning glory would never
have opened to receive its tongue of fire.
Some nakedness embraced you like silence
before you put on the garment of prayer.

But the sapphire firmament of your mind
began to mutter in the language of clouds,
words like “devotion,” “path,” “returning.”
You forgot that the fragrance is given, not taken,
and respiration is an ecstasy, not a technique.

You could no longer leap on the wine-stained
tabletop of the summer sky, burgundy fled
back into the grape, discipline locked the gates
of joy. You would no longer crush great powers
under the weightless feet of foolish wisdom.

Now you’re a shadow made of stone,
your gravity is grief, you think you need
to make a sacrifice. Why not give up
“surrender?” Why not drop your God-thought
and plunge into the Zero of not believing,
which is a deeper well than waking or sleep,
and sweeter than the dream of One.

Call it Teshuvah, the ocean of unknowing globed
in a heart’s tear. That’s where the energy is. 

That’s why Jesus commanded the Twelve to do
only one thing: take a sip from the cup of wonder.

But really, haven’t you always been here,
polishing this midnight brilliance
with the stillness inside every breath?

Painting by mystical Jewish artist Elena Kotliarker