Under the Huppah...

It's Our 11th Wedding Anniversary

Maude & Bob--October 21, 2006
Beth Israel Worship Center
Photo by Patricia Ley

OUR WEDDING CANOPY

Israel Pilgrimage—2006

There was a grass-roofed shelter

along the Sea of Galilee

which reminded me of a succah

which reminded me of God’s covering over me

which reminded me of the blue and white tallit

I bought yesterday in Tiberias

Once I read an article in The Record

that stated being wrapped in a tallit

is like getting a hug from God

a statement that made me yearn

for a prayer shawl of my own

The very day after the article appeared

Rabbi Jonathan revealed

the newly designed Mizoram tallit to our congregation

with its colorful “Lamb within a Star of David” logo

representing Yeshua, our Jewish Messiah—

I gasped, when I saw it, assuming

one would be mine, my tallit, my hug from God

however, they were only presented to the pastors

which brings me to my marriage to Bob

just sixteen days ago

and that Pastor Steven graciously offered

to lend us his tallit to use as our wedding canopy

He gave us his traditional blue and white striped shawl

but Rabbi Jonathan said we would need a larger one

so Pastor Steven lent us his personal Mizoram tallit—

the very shawl that caused me to gasp, so long ago

Four ministers held up the corners of the prayer shawl

creating a fringed huppah over our heads

So, Bob and I stood under the covering of the Lamb

as we exchanged our marriage vows

At the conclusion of the ceremony

Rabbi Jonathan draped the shawl over our shoulders

wrapping us in a Heavenly hug on our holy wedding day

Maude Carolan Pych

Let's Take a Walk in the Woods...

Photo credit: renatures.com

SYMPHONY OF THE WOODS

I meander through woods

along a beaten pathway in North Jersey

and the music begins immediately

There’s chittering of crickets

and the cacophony of other insects

that are hanging on to life

until the frost, which will come soon

Leaves rustle in the trees

some whoosh past me

as they fall to the ground

and there’s a crunch

of dry ones beneath my feet

I hear an occasional snap of a twig

and the scamper of squirrels

or chipmunks, a raccoon 

or field mice scurrying unseen

up and down tree trunks

or frolicking in the dense brush

There may be hidden deer or a bear

Some sounds I cannot identify

Birdsong completely fills the air

all kinds of birdsong—

chirps and coos

and warbles and squawks

I even hear the flutter

of wing flaps

Tying everything together

is the faintest whistling in the breeze

that feels something like tinnitus

ringing in my ears

but it’s not unpleasant

All the sounds blend together

into Nature’s symphony—

a serenade to my spirit

as I stroll

Maude Carolan Pych

"Mount Arbel in the Moonlight"

Photo credit: pinterest.com

MOUNT ARBEL IN THE MOONLIGHT

Israel Pilgrimage--2006

Traveling in the tour bus from Tel Aviv

we arrive at the base of Mount Arbel

before twilight turns to dusk

The prudent would

postpone this venture

till daybreak, but

the zealous are rarely prudent

so seventy of us

imprudent zealous pilgrims

hastily begin an uphill trek

dodging rocky obstacles

Sprightly pilgrim feet

shuffle, sprint and stumble

up the mount

right to the cliff edge

at the pinnacle

The last vestiges of twilight

reveal the Galilee

flowing below us, darkly

like a great well of ink

Thousands of twinkling pin-lights

emanate from across the lake

…the city of Tiberius

The full moon

makes shadows of us all

as our guide teaches

and our rabbi ministers

We sing

O how we sing—

We are standing

on holy ground and we know

that there are angels all around…

and song after song of praise

unconcerned about hour or nightfall

Our exhilarated spirits mellow

and we lapse into solemn silence

except for muffled adoration

by a few and gentle weeping

by those bearing weighty burdens

then one by one

we make our way

…sure-footedly

down the steep, stony path

as God’s great October orb

casts a holy beacon

upon what otherwise would be

a treacherous, dark descent

Maude Carolan Pych

THE LABYRINTH

Written at a poetry retreat led by Laura Boss and Maria Mazzioti Gillan

Mendham, New Jersey, October, 2001

It was free time during an intensive

weekend poetry retreat

I strolled the convent grounds

that warmish autumn day

to clear my head

of so many words and phrases

so many raging poems

about the World Trade Center

so many poems sprung from wounds

from love and death

I smiled at the sight of a nun

wearing a black and white habit

that grazed the russet ground

as she gracefully raked leaves

in a wide open field

“Sister,” I called

“you have quite a job there!”

She answered, but

not hearing her reply

I left the path

and approached her

She was Sister Julia, a novice

named for a thirteen-year-old martyr

Sister Julia was clearing leaves

from a circular brick-in-grass labyrinth

She told me what I hadn’t known

that a labyrinth isn’t a maze

but a unicursal

one path that leads to the center

and out again

She called it Chemin de Jerusalem[1]

a substitute for pilgrimage

I continued my journey

to the old cemetery

with its weather-beaten cement crosses

and to a nearly dry, leaf-strewn pond

then returned, because I had to

to the labyrinth

Entering, my spirit revitalized

as I stepped slowly within the bricks

joyfully reciting snippets

from Davidic, “Songs of Ascents”

and offering hymns and hallelujahs

At center, aliyah!

“My feet are standing

within your gates, O Jerusalem”

and recalled, sweet as honey

so many years ago

when they actually were

I could almost hear the sound

of a distant shofar

Maude Carolan

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[1] Road of Jerusalem