Learning about the ancient Jewish tradition of midrash, a rabbinic form of textual interpretation that seeks and imagines answers to unanswerable questions, felt to Amy Bornman like a poetic invitation to re-engage with the Bible in a new way. There is a A Year of Daily Midrash – an award-winner in the Paraclete Poetry Prize competition – grew from a yearlong project to read the Bible daily, and write daily midrashic poems in response to the readings—to honor the text by wondering about, and struggling with, it. By engaging particular passages of scripture across the Old and New Testaments directly, these poems imagine new dimensions of the text, and make vivid connections to the world as it is now and to the author’s own life—emerging at year’s end with new hope in a future that at times feels impossible, as the days pile on days and the text’s enduring questions continue to ring.
One of those books that feels like it was written just for me with how much I love it and how particular it often feels to my experiences, but also I have shared so many poems out of here with all kind of other people who have loved it. Favorite collection of poetry to date!
i’m learning not to assume disaster, i’m learning to hold out my hands, asking for bread, and not expect a stone. i’m learning to ask and wait open for an answer instead of dooming myself to silence, thinking i’m always alone. my greatest darkness is the fear i harbor, my insistence that somehow the world is not good. my greatest fear is that the door will never open though i knock and fling myself against it, or wait across the hall afraid to even go near. i worry that the door is not a door at all, that i’d swing it open in a moment of boldness and find a cement wall. ask, and it will be given to you. seek, and you will find. knock on the door with the softest fist, put your ear to the wood and listen for movement, the soft swish of a garment, a cup being lifted to lips, someone cooking onions, a dinner being prepared. something or anything happening in the great mystery room. if the door opened now you’d be flattened by light. today, keep your hand on the knob. imagine the threshold. think about the moment when the door would swing open, hinges creak. how will it feel to see the knob so slowly turn? you’ll walk through and know, finally, what it’s like in that room.
One of the first books of poetry that I’ve sat down and just read. Reading the scripture passage that coincides with each poem was a deeply enriching devotional exercise. I loved getting to know Amy’s voice and style as I read. “I must decrease” was my favorite; I will continue to read the least several lines as a prayer again and again. beautiful.
I loved this book of poems so much. There were so many that I put a star by, to come back to again and again. Such a beautiful way to add to my prayer.