Behar-Bechukotai — on Mount [Sinai] / in My Statutes
I live on a mountain
surrounded by other mountains.
I’m listening for voices.
Sometimes it’s coyote.
Sometimes trash trucks.
It’s often lawnmowers.
This is not the mountain
of my ancestors but perhaps
the one of my descendants.
I lay down the law on this mountain
while simultaneously following
the laws laid before me.
They tell me what to plant
on this mountain, or at least
must approve my ideas.
They want me to document
my neighbors weighing in.
I like to do what I’m told.
Like on the original mountain
where we first heard the Voice
telling us what and when –
Telling us how often and
when we just shouldn’t.
These are the laws
of the mountain. We were all there.
I still have my mountain outfit.
I still listen for the Voice
I first heard there. Any excuse
to use the word mountain
in a poem.