day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
e.e. cummings
1894-1962
Poem written circa 1950
מודֶה [מודָה] אֲנִי לְפָנֶיךָ מֶלֶךְ חַי וְקַיָּם, שֶׁהֶחֱזַרְתָּ בִּי נִשְׁמָתִי בְּחֶמְלָה, רַבָּה אֱמוּנָתֶךָ
אֱלהַי. נְשָׁמָה שֶׁנָּתַתָּ בִּי טְהורָה הִיא. אַתָּה בְרָאתָהּ. אַתָּה יְצַרְתָּהּ. אַתָּה נְפַחְתָּהּ בִּי. וְאַתָּה מְשַׁמְּרָהּ בְּקִרְבִּי. וְאַתָּה עָתִיד לִטְּלָהּ מִמֶּנִּי. וּלְהַחֲזִירָהּ בִּי לֶעָתִיד לָבוא. כָּל זְמַן שֶׁהַנְּשָׁמָה בְּקִרְבִּי מודֶה אֲנִי לְפָנֶיךָ ה' אֱלהַי וֵאלהֵי אֲבותַי. רִבּון כָּל הַמַּעֲשים אֲדון כָּל הַנְּשָׁמות: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' הַמַּחֲזִיר נְשָׁמות לִפְגָרִים מֵתִים:
My God, the soul which you have placed within me is pure. You have created it; You have formed it; You have breathed it into me. You preserve it within me; You will take it from me, and restore it to me in the hereafter. So long as the soul is within me, I offer thanks before You, Lord my God and God of my fathers, Master of all creatures, Lord of all souls. Blessed are You, Lord, who restores souls to the dead.
Babylonian Talmud, Brakhot 60B
תפילה לאם בטרם שחרית / חוה פנחס כהן
בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁאֲנִי עוֹמֶדֶת לְבַשֵּׁל דַּיְסַת סֹלֶת
הָסֵר מִמֶּנִּי כָּל מִינֵי מַחֲשָׁבוֹת זָרוֹת
וּכְשֶׁאֲנִי נוֹגַעַת בְּגֵו הַתִּינוֹק וּמַדָּה חֻמּוֹ
שֶׁיֵּלְכוּ מִמֶּנִּי כָּל מִינֵי טְרָדוֹת
שֶׁלֹּא יְבַלְבְּלוּ מַחְשְׁבוֹתַי.
וְתֵן לִי אֹמֶץ לְזַכֵּךְ פָּנַי
שֶׁיּוּכַל כָּל אֶחָד מִילָדַי
לִרְאוֹת פָּנָיו בְּתוֹךְ פָּנַי
כְּמוֹ בְּמַרְאָה רְחוּצָה לִקְרַאת חַג
וְאֶת הַחֹשֶׁךְ הַמְשֻׁקָּע מִפְּנִים
פָּנַי - כַּסֵּה בְּאוֹר.
שֶׁלֹּא תִּפְקַע סַבְלָנוּתִי וְלֹא יֵחַר גְּרוֹנִי
מִצְּעָקָה מִתְחַבֶּטֶת וּמִתְעַבָּה
שֶׁלֹּא יִהְיֶה לִי רִפְיוֹן יָדַיִם
מוּל הַבִּלְתִּי נוֹדָע
וְשֶׁלֹּא יִפָּסֵק אַף לֹא לְרֶגַע
מַגָּע בָּשָׂר בְּבָשָׂר בֵּינִי לְבֵין יְלָדַי
תֵּן בִּי אַהֲבָתְךָ שֶׁיְּהֵא בִּי דַּי לַעֲמֹד בְּפֶתַח הַבַּיִת וּלְחַלְּקָהּ
בְּפַשְׁטוּת בָּהּ פּוֹרְסִים לֶחֶם וּמוֹרְחִים חֶמְאָה כָּל בֹּקֶר
מֵחָדָשׁ נִיחוֹחַ חָלָב רוֹתֵחַ וְגוֹלֵשׁ וְרֵיחַ הַקָּפֶה מְכַסִּים
עַל קָרְבַּן תּוֹדָה וְקָרְבַּן תָּמִיד
שֶׁאֵינִי יוֹדַעַת אֵיךְ נוֹתְנִים.
A Mother’s Prayer Before Dawn
Chava Pinchas-Cohen
At this time as I stand cooking oatmeal,
Remove all sorts of alien thoughts from me
And when I touch the baby’s back and take his temperature
May all sorts of problems disappear,
May they not confuse my thoughts.
And give me the strength to scrub my face
So that each one of my children
Can see his face in mine
As in a mirror washed for a festival.
And the darkness sunk within
My face-cover it with light
So that I don’t lose my patience, and I won’t be hoarse
From coarse, insistent screaming.
May I not experience weakness
Before the unknowable
And may it never end, even for a moment,
The touch of flesh upon flesh, my children’s and mine.
Give me so much of Your love
That I can stand at the door and hand it out
With the simplicity of someone slicing bread
And smearing butter every morning.
Renew the sweet offering of boiling milk bubbling over
And the smell of coffee hovering above
The thanksgiving sacrifice and the daily sacrifice
That I don’t know how they are given.
Chava Pinchas-Cohen, a well known poet living in Jerusalem, has been the editor of “Dimui” a religious arts magazine since 1989.
Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight
Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning
God's recreation of the new day
Morning has broken
"Morning Has Broken" is a popular and well-known Christian hymn first published in 1931. It has words by English author Eleanor Farjeon and is set to a traditional Scottish Gaelic tune known as "Bunessan" (it shares this tune with the 19th century Christmas Carol "Child in the Manger"[1]). (Wikipedia)
Adapted by Cat Stevens.