The year begins,

the mask thins,

and the heart hears a call in the bone.

The serpent grins,

counting wins,

“Keep it mine, keep it safe, keep it alone.”

But we’ve seen that trick,

it burns us quick,

so we gather the shards we can find.

We cut the slick,

ego’s pick,

and choose the King above the mind.

I am my Beloved—

that’s the shove-ed—

annul my will before His own.

Then love is covenanted,

fear is woven,

and Malchut rises to the throne.

Write us to life,

cut off the knife

of tail-chasing questions—“Who? What?”

A lion’s tail,

faith above veil,

we follow Hesed through the clot.

Shofar breath,

sweetens death,

judgment turns to mercy’s tone.

Black and white,

we sign the light,

good writing carved in living stone.

Empty space,

we lift in grace,

Romemut fills the hollowed cup.

Pomegranate case,

seeded place,

every lack says, “Friend, rise up.”

Not one by one—

that’s never done—

we bind as one society.

Shoulder to shoulder,

warmer, bolder,

we cancel exile’s piety.

Crown Him now,

teach me how—

let Your glory not lie in dust.

Make our vow,

make us bow,

turn all receiving into trust.