A Tree’s Hashkiveinu
Let my roots dive deeply and drink
of soil that has never been tainted
by blood unjustly or otherwise spilled.
Let my trunk grow so wide
that no one can encompass me
alone. Let my strength
make parent and child,
refugee and soldier,
rabbi and stranger and
lover and lover and lover
join hands to embrace me
and then each other.
Let my branches become
weighted with the privilege
of bearing nourishing fruits
more valuable than rubies
for any who hunger
for sustenance and sanctuary,
for those who do not have
the means to shelter themselves.
Let my leaves be a canopy
for those who need solace and rest
And do not let your enemies—greed and fear
and wickedness—sully your heart and
cause you to take up your swords and your axes against me.
Instead, polish your metals
until they shine, and
eschew the mirror.
Raise them skyward,
and ask God to look at Himself.
Katherine Orfinger is a writer, artist, and MFA candidate at Rosemont College. She draws her inspiration from her Floridian hometown, love of nature, and Jewish faith. Katherine’s work has appeared in The Write Launch, Beyond Queer Words, Touchstone, Aeolus, and many others. She currently resides in Pennsylvania with her partner.
Amethyst Review 