On a Day Dressed in White, Winged Hands Rise

a Yom Kippur ghazal

With heart, soul, and strength I love. I dream—my God
ladders, angels, fistfuls of copper earth—my lifesap yearns to beg.

Like the fingertips of a mezuzah, a hand rises
seeks alms from air, reaches upwards like flame.

Le-olam tehé s’mol dochah ve-yamin mekarevet
though the left hand must push, let the right implore.

Veins and lines—each right hand an offering, a bird’s nest
falling open to reveal redemption’s ancient story:

Black boxes the size of a man’s palm, one for the forehead,
one for the arm, yet the tefillin are shut in my father’s hands

he is dodging through market-stalls,   behind him, halt!
seized, he must release—the wings of a dove.

In each generation I remember the miracles: You bore me
out of Egypt, seeded wings on my back, destined me to kneel.

Needs flare like wildfire, destroy us; before the seeds can scatter—
rebirth—the roundness of a pinecone dropping promise into ash.

My left hand is a suckling; it knows only how to beg,
like an infant slaking thirst, its fingers slacken from fist to palm.

How life’s insufficiency leads us to give and refuse, chastise and forgive.
All day I ask Him what He wants, all day He says—Adina, pray.

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Adina Kopinsky is an emerging poet balancing poetry, motherhood, and reflective living.  She is originally from Los Angeles and now lives in Israel with her husband and three sons. She has work published or forthcoming in Crannog, SWWIM Every Day, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry, among other publications.