The days grow short, the moon fills and begins to wane.
The date clusters hang ready.
Come with me to the oasis.
The late summer harvest has begun.
I sort the fruit of my past year's labor.
The fruit is full and sweet.
I look back on my year's efforts with satisfaction.
The time for pruning has come.
Much dross weighs down my life.
Our lives are fleeting moments.
Teach us to number our days.
The Sukkah is a fragile booth.
During many years of desert life Sukkot housed our people.
The booth is temporary; our people lives for eternity.
My body is the fragile house of my consciousness.
My body is temporary.
My soul emerged from and will rejoin its Source.
May we continue to dwell together.
Uf'ros aleinu sukkat shlomecha.
Spread over us the shelter of Your peace.
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|© Mark Hurvitz||First posted: October 17, 1997.|
Last updated: June 9, 1999.