A poem for the month of Elul

RETURN

How to make it new:

each year the same missing

of the same marks,

the same petitions

and apologies.

We were impatient, unkind.

We let ego rule the day

and forgot to be thankful.

We allowed our fears

to distance us.

But every year

the ascent through Elul

does its magic,

shakes old bitterness

from our hands and hearts.

We sit awake, itemizing

ways we want to change.

We try not to mind

that this year’s list

looks just like last.

The conversation gets

easier as we limber up.

Soon we can stretch farther

than we ever imagined.

We breathe deeper.

By the time we reach the top

we’ve forgotten

how nervous we were

that repeating the climb

wasn’t worth the work.

Creation gleams before us.

The view from here matters

not because it’s different

from last year

but because we are

and the way to reach God

is one breath at a time,

one step, one word,

every second a chance

to reorient, repeat, return.

 

 

This is the poem I wrote and shared with friends and family during Elul of 5765 (also known as 2005). I suspect the beginning of the poem was influenced by Ezra Pound's poetic dictim of "make it new." The "it" in question was poetry, though I think it's an interesting instruction for life, too. What might it mean to make life new when even the most cursory process of discernment reveals the ways in which we repeat our old patterns year after year? This poem offers one possible answer.