The Binding

from her blog:

copyright Stacey Zisook Robinson, 07/08/2013


I was bound.

I took the fringes and wrapped them




around my fingers.


Fingers that had danced across

Your name,

And caressed the delicate curve of

My child’s face.

Fingers that had scrubbed and washed and cooked and mended

a broken dish–

a broken heart–

a broken world.


I was bound

and freed

by those bonds:



Achingly I chose them,

even as they chose me


And I lifted my eyes to the mountains.

And I lifted my voice to the heavens.

And I lifted my arms to wrap around Your word.

Arms to comfort,

And hold dear,

And hold safe

All that I hold dear–

All that You have commanded

(and then some)


I was bound

to the rhythm of the world,

Of suns and seas and moons:

A tidal pull to bind me.

An aching–

A stately–

An eternal dance.

And I was moved

And gloriously bound

To lift my voice

and my eyes

and sing praises to Your name

Under a velvet sky,

in the shadow of a holy Wall.


In the holiness of a moment,

In a sacred and tidal moment,

I wrapped the fringes around my fingers

and I lifted my arms

in the presence of Your light.


And I was bound.

And I was silenced.

And I was herded

and hated

and hobbled.


And still–

still I gathered those fringes,

frayed now

and tangled,

I gathered those fringes


Bound them to me

from corner to corner to


To the heart of it,

The heart of me,

And I lifted deft fingers

to dance along Your name,

And offered my wearied arms

to my sister

my child

my enemy

my God,

And I bowed

And so was bound.


And in my binding,

In my song,

In my center,

I was free


For all of us, eternally at the Wall

Rosh Chodesh Av



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