The Temple of My Soul
I walk through these days
not seeking to be perfect
but to be true--
to open the shutters of my heart
and let the light of Hashem pass through.
In every breath of morning mist,
in every crack of my voice
when I say Hineni,
I know:
You are not in the sky alone.
You are the quiet beside the river.
You are the stillness after tears.
I have tried to carry
every stone of shame,
but You are not the weight--
You are the water
that calls it to soften.
In the space between my prayers,
I remember who I am:
not broken,
only opening.
I build no walls for You.
No gilded ark, no golden dome.
My prayer is this:
bare feet on moss,
a birdcry,
the hush before rain.
Hashem, if I am a temple,
then every tree is a witness,
every star a lamp.
You made the world for holiness
to hide in plain sight--
and I am learning how to see.
not seeking to be perfect
but to be true--
to open the shutters of my heart
and let the light of Hashem pass through.
In every breath of morning mist,
in every crack of my voice
when I say Hineni,
I know:
You are not in the sky alone.
You are the quiet beside the river.
You are the stillness after tears.
I have tried to carry
every stone of shame,
but You are not the weight--
You are the water
that calls it to soften.
In the space between my prayers,
I remember who I am:
not broken,
only opening.
I build no walls for You.
No gilded ark, no golden dome.
My prayer is this:
bare feet on moss,
a birdcry,
the hush before rain.
Hashem, if I am a temple,
then every tree is a witness,
every star a lamp.
You made the world for holiness
to hide in plain sight--
and I am learning how to see.
This image is like looking into my spirit—a reflection of what I hold most sacred. The glowing Star of David represents my covenant with Hashem, my connection to the Jewish people, and the long, winding journey of teshuvah and belonging. Nestled within it, the triquetra echoes my reverence for the natural world, the breath of the forest, the whisper of water, and the unseen presence of spirits in the wild places. You could say I'm a little Druish—equal parts Jewish and Druid, solemn and tree-hugging.
I dedicate this image to my beloved partner Andy: though we walk different spiritual paths, we meet on shared ground. With him, I’ve found a connection more intimate than I’ve ever known. He is the one I trust to see me fully—light and shadow, roots and flame. He is my safe place, my sanctuary.
I dedicate this image to my beloved partner Andy: though we walk different spiritual paths, we meet on shared ground. With him, I’ve found a connection more intimate than I’ve ever known. He is the one I trust to see me fully—light and shadow, roots and flame. He is my safe place, my sanctuary.
