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  • Writer's pictureLeann Shamash

We are Transformed

Updated: Feb 24, 2021

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

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