He said, “Let me go, for dawn is breaking,”
but he said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me” (Genesis 32:27).

I land at your feet and the sky comes down.
Falls into my open mouth.
Rain pours down my throat,
lightning glances off my teeth.

I only wanted to touch you
and now the span of the heavens
fills my chest.

The way I feel about you is the way I feel
about the old boat on the bank.
It won’t get me across the river dry,
but I know how to swim.

Safe passage doesn’t interest me.
My joints may lose their sockets
but they will not lose their songs.

We wake up smelling like seawater,
sounding like shorebirds,
and even when I’m broken,
I don’t let go

until that same sky blesses me,
Until I am given a new name.

Rabbi Gray Myrseth was ordained in 2017 by the Hebrew College Rabbinical School and is currently serving as director of youth programs at Kehilla Community Synagogue in Piedmont, California.

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