Skin blistered, ignorance bliss<\/p>\n
Throat parched, humor dry<\/p>\n
Eyes tearing, heart torn<\/p>\n
Feet dragging, mind drugged<\/p>\n
Lips chapped, nerves charred<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Reach out with bloodied hands<\/p>\n
For that self-aggrandized image<\/p>\n
Blown-up like a surveillance shot<\/p>\n
Only to realize that it\u2019s a mirage<\/p>\n
Fading with every step taken closer<\/p>\n
To nothing dressed in cellophane<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
(Things blown-up always seem to explode)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Read the fading sign in neon diner letters:<\/p>\n
Wel\u00a0ome to the Wilder\u00a0es\u00a0 & Des\u00a0rt<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
(\u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d they tell you. \u201cLetters can always be replaced.\u201d)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Wilderness, where we convince ourselves<\/p>\n
That everything in life is a wildflower and<\/p>\n
Gardeners don\u2019t exist at all and neither do gardens,<\/p>\n
Where wildfires are all the rage and we love<\/p>\n
Every sizzling lick its forked tongue bestows, every<\/p>\n
Flaming cackle of its burning dispassion. Wild-<\/p>\n
Fire: the coldest, most heartless fire known to fuel,<\/p>\n
Colder yet for it really should be hot, warm<\/p>\n
Embracing.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Desert, where when we look at a body we<\/p>\n
Don\u2019t see a soul, look at a challenge and not<\/p>\n
See a solution, listen politely to a question and<\/p>\n
Not hear a plea, touch purity and still not feel<\/p>\n
Innocence<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Here we are, after Eden & Genesis, after<\/p>\n
Egypt & Exodus, even after Mt. Sinai and<\/p>\n
What Greek and Latin translate as Leviticus<\/p>\n
But what Hebrew knows as coming close,<\/p>\n
When He called to Moshe\u2026<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
After all we\u2019ve gone through, still here we are<\/p>\n
In the Wilderness, the Desert, wild, deserted<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Alone.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
How to breathe in an asphyxiated world?<\/p>\n
How to touch life in a place that\u2019s dead?<\/p>\n
How to remain focused in a wilderness?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Take a census of the
\n<\/i><\/p>\n
Entire congregation of
\n<\/i><\/p>\n
The Children of Israel <\/i><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Come to our census<\/p>\n
(And consensus):<\/p>\n
Take the sum, the sum of the<\/p>\n
Hearts<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Count each individual, the quantity<\/p>\n
And they shall become the quality<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Counting diamonds:<\/p>\n
Each one of us a priceless diamond, a clear soul,<\/p>\n
Counted because each one of us counts, matters most,<\/p>\n
And when we realize we are diamonds, even the thickest<\/p>\n
Blackest rough cannot hide our glimmer, glitter, radiance<\/p>\n
Brilliance \u2013<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Even the most depressing wilderness cannot depress us<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
We may be a diamond in the rough, a body in a soul<\/p>\n
But when the diamond is realized, polished<\/p>\n
Even the rough begins to shine<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
We have opened another book, in the desert,<\/p>\n
The Talmud calls it the book of \u201ccounting\u201d<\/p>\n
(You don\u2019t want to cook these books, believe<\/p>\n
Me, but you may want to gobble them up)<\/p>\n
An account book, where every detail is tallied<\/p>\n
For every detail, every individual helps us get<\/p>\n
From where we are to where we are going to be.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Up ahead in the not-so-distance read the sign in vibrant<\/p>\n
Holy letters \u2013<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Welcome to the Promised Land<\/p>\n