I am awakening
to the need to come home
the stringent pull
that yells straight to my face

fridays and saturdays
i do hakafot
like nanachs
i sing and dance
filled with joy and tears
drunk with feeling and trembling
i open the scrolls

on sundays
i set my feet
upon the stomp ground
hearing my heart beat
to the rhythm
that has always been mine
guiding my feet and mouth.
dance and song
i kiss the rattles

during the week
the sound of the drum
guides my hand
as I write my own Torah
and like Midrash,
weaving pieces of text together,
those parts of me become one

With pride,
like a colored feathered tallit
covering my being
my dark skin
reminiscing my ancestors
Hakafot
to the sound of the powwow drum
No more
and no less