Don't let me fall
As a stone falls upon the hard ground.
And don't le my hands become dry
as the twigs of a tree
when the wind beats down the last leaves.
And when the storm raises dust from the earth
with anger and howling,
Don't let me become the last fly
Trembling terrified on a windowpane.
Don't let me fall.
I have asked for so much,
But as a blade of your grass in a distant wild field
Lets drop a seed in the lap of the earth
And dies away,
Sow in me your living breath,
As you sow a seed in the earth.
(this is a very difficult day for me. I carry a heavy heart, the cause of which I cannot say here. The only response I can offer up for the saddness is prayer. Still, I have much good to be thankful for, my health, my husband and daughter, my work and congregation, my friends).
The poem above was written by Kadya Molodowsky, an Ashkenazic Jew. It is a type of prose prayer for women known as tkhines, compoese in Yiddish. The recitation of these prayers might accompany such ceremonial household tasks as making candles or sabbath bread...they might also be offered as a more spontaneous speech of the heart seeking guidance and comfort. I found this poem prayer in "Women in Praise of the Sacred" edited by Jane Hirshfield, HaperPerennial 1994. I am using this book as part of my morning prayer.