Welcome

Poetry and rituals are meant to used.

And so I invite you to travel to my new website:

www.vickihollander.com

There you will find:

*Prayer-poems for each Moon
*Prayer-poems for each Holy day
*Moorings, newsletters for those bereaved
*Rituals
*Meditations

& more about me...

To be in touch:
Contact Me: Vicki.Hollander@gmail.com

Moon Prayer poems: Ending & Beginning

So the cycle circles round
endings unfold into beginnings.

You've reached a quiet marker on the roadside,
a threshold,
the road yet stretching ahead of you
parts seen and known, parts yet to be revealed
the sweet gift and challenge of walking in this world.

Time to savor the moment
before picking up your walking stick
and continuing on your way
into the life that awaits you.

Blessings.
Goodness.
Joy.

The Moon of Tevet

You stand at a powerful threshold,
parts of self dying and parts about to be freshly born,
and call upon the name of God,
HaRachaman

HaRachman, You Who delivered me into life,
You Who travels alongside me,
I stand with You now, all my candles aflame.
We stand together, a pillar of fire, burning in the darkness of the night,
in this moon of endings and beginnings.

HaRachaman, You Who tend me lovingly,
You Who catch me when I fall and Who helps me rise up again,
in this moon when I know light is returning, but I can't yet see it's traces,
in this moon where night yet reigns, I tread a walk of faith,
my eyes open, my arms extended,
the journey of life itself.

HaRahaman, You Who hold me close,
You Who rallies by my side, Who guides me to safety,
I enter this moon of water, when earth and sky meet in embrace
when the rains come down deeply drenching the Land,
soaking the seeds, washing the trees roots, refilling the wadis,
the caverns overflowing once again with song.

I descend into the soft darkness of Tevet, and let her teachings and magic
play upon my soul, shaping it, wet mud from the rains,
stuff of life, messy, rich with lives gone by,
decaying plant leaves and small white animal bones slip together
creating clay from which to sculpt my life anew.

HaRachaman, You Who watch out for me,
You Who want me to be all that I can be,
in this moon of Tevet there is quiet space with room enough,
space and quiet enough, deep and full enough, to hold all of who I am,
the parts seen, as well as those trying to reveal themselves.
This my soul needs,
just as the cisterns which now fill up again with heavy rains,
relief of water filling up, filling up, filling up again my dry places.
So may I emerge from this moon of night, from the depths,
with new life.

Kindle all my flames, free me from the shadows,
that I might offer up my abundance,
that I might adorn Your world with radiance.

Be with me HaRachaman and aid me.
You Who walk beside me in my days,
You Who protect me in my nights,
HaRachaman.

Chanuka

The vastness of night, like a great ocean, surrounds you now
while your soul whispers the name of God,
HaKodesh.

Holy One, You Who fosters all life,
I stand in the dim of the waning moon, at the darkest time of year.
I have journeyed far and wide and I am weary now.
I have struggled and claimed my traditions.
I have wrestled with forces greater than I.
The road has been long, the battles lengthy,
and I am worn.

Holy One, You Who illuminate my being,
aid me summon up courage and stubbornness, persistence and hope.
You Who restores all souls, hold me now, embrace me,
bathe me and cleanse me, wash away the impurities of my travel.
Help me emerge clear and fresh again, my inner courtyards shining again,
ready for the sacred ceremonies.

You Who kiss each life awake,
help me find my hidden vessel of sacred oil.
Fill my lamp, pour Your pure rich golden oil, the first press of olives
over me, that I might soften and heal.

Fill me. Fill my containers up.

O Holy One, You Who treasure all creation,
aid me re-consecrate myself, my body, my spirit, my soul.
You Who I am but a particle of, renew my life force,
kindle my flames.

And each night, one by one, increase my light.
That I might ever shine
and sing Your song in this darkest of nights.

Holy One, walk with me
and light my way.

As I light this candle, so too may You kindle my seven inner flames
and the eighth, that I may know wholeness.

I rededicate myself this night to that which You wish of me.
May I walk in the path of Your light.

The Moon of Kislev

Your soul yearns for tending
in this time of deepest night, and
calls upon the name of God,
Ha'G'vurah

HaG'vurah, You Who sculpts the caves deep within the earth,
Who soothes the ocean's waters,
You come to me in this Moon of Kislev
to teach me of true power.

Kislev nestles on the edge of winter, month in the Land where
rains sweep across the face of the earth,
thistles softly green wave in the wind, and
harvests of oranges blend with
stories of courage and miracles, fear and wonders.

HaG'vurah, You Who sprinkles the stars throughout the heavens,
Who holds the planets in place,
You teach me of the many forms of strength.
Strength of muscle and of voice, strength of coppers and of spirit,
strength of action and of stillness, strength of struggle and of release,
strength of laughter and strength of tears, strength in daily living, and
moment to moment choosing life.

HaG'vurah, You Who spreads the sun's rays each morning
Who paints the clouds with light,
You instruct me of the many forms of might.
Might of position and of person, might of gold and of presence,
might of speaking and of listening, might of confidence and of humility,
might of compassion and of companioning, might in daily living, and
moment to moment walking with faith.

HaG'vurah,
help me to stand with You.
Renew my energies
that I might join You,
to assist those who are failing and protect those who are fragile,
to support those who are weary and defend those who are vulnerable,
to lift those who have fallen and shield those who have become weakened
through the rounds and turns of life.

HaG'vurah,
grant me continued vigor.
Refortify me,
that I might continue to find my power and
to use it once uncovered
with wisdom.

In this Moon of Kislev,
gird me,
You Who are my strength and shield,
HaG'vurah

The Moon of Cheshvan

You can feel the earth's changes, the tide of night rising around you.
And so you call upon the name of God
HaMakom
your place, your haven,
in this time of transformation.

HaMakom, in this moon of Cheshvan
You teach me to learn from the trees.
They rise in radiant splendor,
their rich reds, deep clarets and brilliant golds gleaming on the hillsides,
showing me the way to walk in this world,
with quiet dignity, colors aflame, soul shining in beauty,
gently releasing that which is no longer needed
so as to stand more lightly in this world.

Cheshvan arrives, season of sowing in the Land.
Barley and wheat are tucked into earth's bed to sleep and rise in the spring.
You teach me now is the time to plant seeds, which in order to sprout
requires exposure to cool air and deep rest.
So too do I need travel through my chilled spells, my times of darkness,
that I might rise in my season, gifting
nourishment to this world.

In Cheshvan in the Land, storks and cranes on route to the south
take respite in the fields, blanketing them in white.
So you show me that cycles ever keep turning,
to watch for the gifts which periodically descend,
the storks, harbingers,
of promise yet to come.

In Cheshvan the farmers gently lay the newly plucked olives
into their garlicky brine, that they might in quiet
turn to luscious morsels.
After reviewing my harvest, cleansing my spirit,
living in the elements and dancing in joy,
I too now eagerly enter into the tantalizing invitation of the velvety quiet,
to absorb, reflect, shift shape,
rest my soles.

For just as the earth wraps herself in fallen leaves and composting flowers,
in pine needles and fugitive nuts, tree's cast off clothing,
lying down to rest,
so too do I need pause and tuck myself inwards,
relearning that my native resources lie within my own soil
which in season needs enriching, replenishing,
and restoration.

HaMakom, You Who guide me to my place,
You in Whom my place lies,
succor me during this season of frost.
Grant me warm shelter as I turn to You
as I return to myself,
HaMakom.

Simchat Torah

Yedid Nefesh, Heart of my hearts,
Soul of my souls, come dance with me.

It's time, it's time to dance, my Loved One,
come this night and dance.

Yedid Nefesh, You Whom I adore,
just as I pray for rain,
that my fields and gardens may bring forth new life,
so do I dance my thanksgiving for Your wisdoms,
which water my spirit, nourishing my inner lands.
And so, in celebration, I dance to You.
You Who gives me life,
this dance is for You.

As the moon grows dim, come dance with me.
Place Your hand in mine.
For this is the evening of endings, and this is the evening of beginnings,
the eternal dance of life.
And You, You thread through it all,
traveling with me through closings, the dying times,
into the rewindings, the reworkings,
through that which is seen and that which lies hidden,
through that which is known and that which is mystery,
through that which is written, and that which lies awaiting to be expressed,
I dance with You, my Partner, through it all,
through all the cycles of my life,
ever returning to the start,
that poignant, fresh, glistening point,
font of burgeoning life.

So come Yedid Nefesh,
let us dance the dance eternal.
You Who my soul adores.