Mori Glaser, Jerusalem, Israel    



We sight the year's first moon

a silver crescent


delicate and distinct

in the deepening sky.


Our Shofar blows

a raspberry to the Rabbis

who compute the moon

wrong every time

except once in a blue moon

which comes next month.


This moon is ours

candles lit

wine waiting

love, our own miracle

rarer than a Rabbinical moon

on the right night.


The lunar ice

love melts away

will freeze again

before the next moon

to frigid pools around my heart.



[i] The Rabbinical calculations of the lunar calendar have become inaccurate over time. Witnesses in Israel sight the new moon each month and report the time over the internet, thus festivals are often celebrated a day or so later than the Rabbinical date.





Women in Judaism: A Multidisciplinary Journal Fall 2012 Volume 9 Number 2

ISSN 1209-9392

© 2012 Women in Judaism, Inc.

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