I wish to speak about the celebration
that is not accompanied by cheers and whistles
but is shared in hushed tones.
that breeds within the mutterings of a blessing
at a funeral, in tears and in quiet laughter,
in the shaking of hands and the fluttering of eyelashes
the flight of the cardinal
did you see?
you catch one glimpse
and the world seems to open up to you
we live our lives in that single moment
but before long, it’s gone.
that which lives in the discarded orange peel
its scent still lingering on our fingertips
how we get goosebumps at both
the warmth of a lover’s breath
and the chill of its absence
the knowledge of what we have
what we have been gifted
it is the shehecheyanu
gratitude for the occasion
to be here
now,
together
to be witness to it all:
to life
to life