I knew there was another poem here..... This is a poem based on Aaron being chosen to be the High Priest and the description of what he wore. It is a continuation of my last post....
It was good this week to have the time to think about clothing, what it does to us, for us and how it transforms us. Do you have any clothing that transforms you? I'd love to hear.
Once, long ago, there was a man
Aaron was his name
He was a father, a husband,
a brother to a leader
He was called to do important work,
dangerous work
His clothing, designed by God, set him apart
I don't know if he wanted the job,
but it was his.
As he donned his robes he was transformed
He stood a little taller
He looked a little braver than he probably felt
as he connected heaven and earth
with a trail of fragrant smoke
And time goes by
Clothing changes
but people remain the same
And now, Ba'zman hazeh, there is a man
He gets up early one morning
After a long shift the day before
on the Covid ward
He washes from head to toe
Dons his mask, his shield,
his scrubs, his jumpsuit
He covers his graying curls
his face, his hands, his feet
He tapes a picture of himself
on his gown.
Ready to go
He trembles for a moment,
trying to manage his fear
He takes a deep breath,
says a prayer.
He is transformed
ready for battle
She also gets up early one morning
Feeds the cat,
Showers, drinks her coffee
Thinks about her mother alone
far away
She slowly dresses
struggles with the buttons of her shirt
fastens her heavy belt,
adds her cuffs, her golden badge
She puts her hat upon her head with pride
Straightens the visor
And step by step
she is transformed.
She stands a little straighter
Her face steadies
She is read and alert.
The door clicks behind her
as she walks through to her day.
A skinny eight year old gets up before daylight,
digs his super hero comics from his nightstand.
He turns page after page,
a flashlight in his hand,
his eyes straining to see the superheroes fly,
their capes cutting a line in the sky
He hears the whoosh as they nosedive.
They are saving the world from bad guys.
His father calls for him to come for breakfast,
but he'd rather dream of himself transformed
Flying with a cape, powers flying from his fingers
His super powers unleashed.
Somewhere on this planet a queen awakens
Her velvet robes clean and ready
Her crown lies locked in a closet awaiting her
Its many jewels weigh down her small frame
The queen pulls the covers over her head
Feels the darkness, the quiet, the peace
Wishing that for one day she need not put on that crown
and be transformed.
She longs to be herself,
to be ordinary,
just a person without a robe, without a crown
on her own in the crowd
invisible, unencumbered.
Our clothing transforms us
Perhaps yes, perhaps no
Better, perhaps we transform our clothing
Pumping fresh air into our capes
Honesty into our uniforms
Bravery into our scrubs
Majesty into our crowns
Adding intensity and purpose
Perhaps God's design lives on?
Photograph from Wix Stock Images
These are the vestments they are to make: a breastpiece, an ephod, a robe, a fringed tunic, a headdress, and a sash. They shall make those sacral vestments for your brother Aaron and his sons, for priestly service to Me; they, therefore, shall receive the gold, the blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and the fine linen.
They shall make the ephod of gold, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and of fine twisted linen, worked into designs.
It shall have two shoulder-pieces attached; they shall be attached at its two ends.
Exodus 28:4-7 Translation from Sefaria