You all grow up so quickly....
Hey hey my smiling sunshines!
In the Israeli army, once you finish basic training, you go through a process called "nishbar Distance" in which your commanders, who have been giving you hell for the past several weeks all of a sudden relate to you as (relative) equals. Its a pretty nifty concept.
Well, speaking with some of you over the past week or two, and seeing how incredibly you are growing up, and really are adults, I decided that the time has come and the distance can break! I've been anxiously awaiting this since 7th grade for some of you to start being my peers instaed of my kids. Although I should be waiting until the end of the school year when you are all officially out of USY and high school (except you, Miss Shana) I figured, what the heck - there is no time like the present. So, you'll be seeing a lot more in my live journal as I write to you with a truly honest and real voice - no youth director coverings at all. YAY.
Here's a little diddy that I wrote a while ago while dating a lovely young man who dumped me on my little tuchas (okay, let me have my delusions that its little) with no warning. He's still an incredible man.
To My (soon to be not) Yeshiva Boy
My settler skirt glides along the ground
wicking up the moisture
as your fortified outpost
rises to greet me
With your shomer negiah eyes
you watch as you touch
into my sea of halacha
flowing from ancient, modern
to unbridled passion
caught up in the moment
in a page of talmud
your walls are too high
your dwelling here no longer temporary
Invalid.
Holding tight to halacha
holding tighter to me
you plunge into the depths
of the Delaware Water Gap
crying out for the ease of a
smaller pop-open can of tuna
but instead find yourself
stuck on the road
with but a rusty can opener
The reward is in measure
to the struggle
This world is a corridor
to the world to come
To the world of Hersheys
kissing the belt so gently
kissing below the belt
kissing above the belt
kissing the Torah as she passes by like
a pagan virgin waiting
for sacrifice to your god
Your God, He follows you
to the car,
the store,
the shul
where you wrestle to stay awake
to keep focus
on Your God.
You wink,
you smile
you excuse yourself.
Yet He stands there,
and you stand before Him
knowing
always ready
to load your clip in seconds
should your lady liberty need you.
And so,
my Yeshiva boy,
with fire eyes
and lightening thoughts
I see through your Shabbos shlufs
and your Shabbos shtups
to your God wrestling
core of truth
so that you will not long stay just
my adored Yeshiva boy
Growing,
blooming
blossoming
parsley on a windowsill
sprouting the moment the sun
touches your back releasing
Infinite potential
I have found the one
with which my soul
delights
In the Israeli army, once you finish basic training, you go through a process called "nishbar Distance" in which your commanders, who have been giving you hell for the past several weeks all of a sudden relate to you as (relative) equals. Its a pretty nifty concept.
Well, speaking with some of you over the past week or two, and seeing how incredibly you are growing up, and really are adults, I decided that the time has come and the distance can break! I've been anxiously awaiting this since 7th grade for some of you to start being my peers instaed of my kids. Although I should be waiting until the end of the school year when you are all officially out of USY and high school (except you, Miss Shana) I figured, what the heck - there is no time like the present. So, you'll be seeing a lot more in my live journal as I write to you with a truly honest and real voice - no youth director coverings at all. YAY.
Here's a little diddy that I wrote a while ago while dating a lovely young man who dumped me on my little tuchas (okay, let me have my delusions that its little) with no warning. He's still an incredible man.
To My (soon to be not) Yeshiva Boy
My settler skirt glides along the ground
wicking up the moisture
as your fortified outpost
rises to greet me
With your shomer negiah eyes
you watch as you touch
into my sea of halacha
flowing from ancient, modern
to unbridled passion
caught up in the moment
in a page of talmud
your walls are too high
your dwelling here no longer temporary
Invalid.
Holding tight to halacha
holding tighter to me
you plunge into the depths
of the Delaware Water Gap
crying out for the ease of a
smaller pop-open can of tuna
but instead find yourself
stuck on the road
with but a rusty can opener
The reward is in measure
to the struggle
This world is a corridor
to the world to come
To the world of Hersheys
kissing the belt so gently
kissing below the belt
kissing above the belt
kissing the Torah as she passes by like
a pagan virgin waiting
for sacrifice to your god
Your God, He follows you
to the car,
the store,
the shul
where you wrestle to stay awake
to keep focus
on Your God.
You wink,
you smile
you excuse yourself.
Yet He stands there,
and you stand before Him
knowing
always ready
to load your clip in seconds
should your lady liberty need you.
And so,
my Yeshiva boy,
with fire eyes
and lightening thoughts
I see through your Shabbos shlufs
and your Shabbos shtups
to your God wrestling
core of truth
so that you will not long stay just
my adored Yeshiva boy
Growing,
blooming
blossoming
parsley on a windowsill
sprouting the moment the sun
touches your back releasing
Infinite potential
I have found the one
with which my soul
delights