Sabbath

     The moment comes on Friday nights, when I light two candles that usher in the Sabbath.

     The moment comes when I walk my dog near the river and stand on the bridge and take the deepest breath of the day.

     The moment comes when I am ambushed by the Mary Oliver poem "Praying":  "...the doorway / into thanks, and a silence in which / another voice may speak."

     The moment comes beneath the surface of the water, when all boundaries dissolve.

     The moment comes when I permit myself to begin again.

- Anita Diamant