New Orleans Funeral March Poem:

The gathering of community under a white tent, a haven, a sacred place

The voices of children shouting, and crying fills the room with a thousand trumpets

The gentle touch of a friendly face, the love that fills our bellies and smiles that hurt our face

It is time. It is Elul.

Burying the past, looking toward the future

The angelic voices singing more light into

Parading across the bima, we hear the call of the shofar

torah scrolls

(to be continued)…

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