God knocks politely on the

Inside of my skull

At the place where my

Tefillin rests above and between

My eyes.

Hearing His whisper, His lover’s call,

I laugh.

God has a terrible sense of timing.

As He beckons, I am on an airplane

Bound for Tel Aviv,

Surrounded by men who would riot

If they saw me remove the

Small black boxes I prize so greatly

From their pouch,

Secretly stored inside my bag.

I smile.

God will have to wait

For tomorrow, for Haifa, in

My hotel room where we can

Be alone.

Until then, all the knocking

Is just giving me a headache,

From a call to prayer

That in this moment,

I cannot answer.

Ahuva Batya writes on a diverse range of subjects from Jewish mysticism to addiction recovery.  Her book of Jewish-themed poetry, I Want a God with Arms, is expected in early 2013.