Here it is Thursday, and I’ve been so busy, I’ve barely given the week’s Torah reading a thought.

I officiated at two funerals this week, and tomorrow morning I go upstate for a big wedding. So I’m just going to share a poem that I tend to read at funerals.

Yes, We Can Talk, by Mark Nepo:

Having loved enough and lost enough,

I’m no longer searching

Just opening.

No longer trying to make sense of pain

But trying to be a soft and sturdy home

In which real things can land.

These are the irritations

That rub into a pearl.

So we can talk for a while

But then we must listen,

The way rocks listen to the sea.

And we can churn at all that goes wrong

But then we must lay all distractions

Down and water every living seed.

And yes, on nights like tonight

I, too, feel alone. But seldom do I

Face it squarely enough

To see that it’s a door

Into the endless breath

that has no breather,

Into the surf that human

Shells call God.