Kabbalah
At night it carries me away
pale-lipped under its tin light.
Which one is Judah it asks
which way is emptiness.
A psalmist in the wilderness
haggling over the ten righteous ones
The silvered cup in the sack of grain
the psalm that chains the riddle to its breath.
The divine weaver in her night garment
lipsinging with the Master of the good name
Cobbling amongst lilies the ten-fretted light
splendour in mercy, Chesed in Binah.
The thought song of the cherry tree
in the hanging gardens of the heart.