I know it’s autumn because the yearly Torah reading cycle is back at Genesis, with all of the complex internecine business – Betrayal! Sex! Murder! – that being human, even the kind that talks to God, seems to brings with it. It’s the time of year I like to bring out my biblical poetry (every girl needs some in her repertoire, no?) and post it for the four or six people who appreciate it. Speci[...]
There is a familiar pit in my stomach that tells me I must put something down on paper. So to speak. It's a pit that reminds me of other pits, that makes me 16 again, and 26, all the years joined by a common physiological sense of being carried by an idea or a feeling, literally hungry for something to write. Medical science will tell you that the pit is the work of the vagus nerve in my abdomen, which[...]
The emptiness of being full, when hunger is the only good muse I’ve had in years. (Remember the joy of jagged yearning?) I watch fulfillment share its lazy bed with sleep - - warm with babies and stability, stuffed with calories, consistency and compromise.