Ritual

My favourite part
of the Bar/Bat Mitzvah
is listening
to a teenaged interpretation
of Torah. Nieces, nephews,
cousins hunched over the scroll,
the way your back bends now
towards the thing you are reading,
in these rooms consecrated
by desire—prayers
lifted towards eroded alters
and the snow falls in May
dressing the mountains as if
it were still November.
What is
a miracle?

I ask the kids, but
they never text back.
I wish I could sit now,
listen to their breaking voices
sing.