I watch the match strike the surface,
of a matchbox with Shabbos designs;
this flame designates the beginning
of sacred time, the Day of Rest.
After saying the blessing over the candles,
my mother turns the tablet on the dinner table,
so that my view is now of her chair and place setting;
as we begin the prayers, the Shechinah joins us.
Every Friday evening, we’ve been meeting,
closing the distance of 2,300 miles in an instant,
after connecting our pixelated selves,
via the blessings of technology.
Who knows whether or not,
these high tech wonders
exist specifically for times like these,
in order to bridge the gaps between us all.
I take comfort in sharing this moment,
sanctifying the day with kiddush and motzei,
standing upon an island in time, suspended
in between the week days.