A cup to the freedom fighters
this is a prayer for all freedom fighters, a prayer for the tired, the burnt out, the heartsick, the cynical
this is a prayer for all freedom fighters brave enough to cry, for the reaching around of arms, the firm handclaps of comradeship, the sanctuary of bodies when we need to hide our faces.
this is a prayer for wordless understanding, the flickering human eye flames of humor and warmth, compassion and mirth, the ridiculous, horrific, ecstatic worlds in our eyes, the volumes of untold stories.
this is a prayer for laugh lines and stretch marks, for the tough beauty of mothers and old folks, for skin gone leathery with the sun and the passage of years, for dirt stained knuckles and chapped lips.
this is a prayer for the road map scars, the burn marks, the tender new flesh of healing, the tattoos, the cuts and bruises, the patchwork of our hearts.
seeds watered with tears and summer thunderstorm torrents.
I am binding our stories together, blood and bone and sinew, stitch, solder, suture. I am building something with drill, paintbrush, knife, welding torch, needle, thread, time, garlic, hope, trash.
this is my prayer, this is my wish, this is my song under my breath and all the love in my heart, this is my loud cursing and giggling, this is my holiest silence.
Baruch atah Adonai eloheinu melech ha'olam boreh p'ri hagafen.
Blessed is the source that fills all creation and brings forth the fruit of the vine.
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