Whispered prayers in unfamiliar syllables,
stumbled melodies, half-known words.
I am alone, and yet, and yet, but for a moment,
I am without. I touch, scarcely, divinity,
here, in a room of light,
window open before us upon creation.

I look up, and smile for just a second,
as, like the returning tide,
as the stars within their firmanent,
unchanged and changing,
we begin where we began,
my uncertain lips form your name.
Here, I am not alone.

A religious poem. I wrote this after the third Shabbat service I ever went to, which is pretty much when I’d decided I was going to seek conversion. I’m glad I did!