בס״ד
Vayikra
Upon the sacrificial lamb,
two hands rest,
with a sense of regret,
for that act, and this.
Sanctifying through touch,
and with bracha,
like waving the Kohain,
or blessing the children.
Warmth, tangible as breath,
a fluttering of life,
each padded finger caressing,
every woolen curl.
Between penitent and korban,
at this poignant, tactile moment,
a shimmer of no substance,
passes.
A tear is shed,
anointed now is the emissary,
the shaliach, bearing away error,
like the shearing off of fleece.
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