A Reading Kaddish Reading

When the sky turns that color
you just know it never was before,
and then throws streaks of light toward the universe,
before it fades into dark promises;

When the air is whisper-silent,
before the birds, after the stars,
and clouds begin to give way to faint, lemon light,
chilly even in summer;

When children are running and dancing
through sprinklers,
and squealing at the grass between their toes,
or giggling at water splashing their tummies;

When during the hakafah a baby holds out her arms,
cannot reach,
and so instead blows kisses at the Torah,
even though no one near her is paying attention;

When you are standing in a minyan,
surrounded by Jews and Tradition,
and the cacophony of voices that wrap around you like a tallis
is somber and strange;

When you remember not to forget me,
say it with some joy, some wonder, some awe,
and heartfelt gratitude.
You are praying on my behalf, in appreciation of my life;

And I for one, am glad I was here.