Yom Kippur

I stand before You.
Feel the rustle of the pages of the
Book of Life and the Book of Death.
And call upon the name of God, 
my Creator, Former, Maker.


You Who breath life into my bones,
I, who am in Your image, I, who am dust and ashes,
I come to you dressed in white.

White as the east and white as the west,
white as emptiness and white as fullness,
white of my death and white of my birth,
white of passage as I walk this day.

I dress in white, I bare my feet,
I stand on Your ground,
from where I came, my namesake, and
where I will return.

You Who shape, You Who give me life each moment,
I come to You dressed in white

White of the burial shroud and white of the wedding garb,
white worn in freedom and white of judgment time,
white of the moon and white of the stars,
white of light. 

I dress in white, unadorned, container of all colors.
I stand before You as You made me,
incomplete, imperfect,
beautifully crafted.


You Who form,
You Who sustain me
each second,

I come to You dressed in white.



White of leaving and white of returning,
white of exile and white of homecoming,
white of struggle and white of release,
white of responsibility and white of power,
white of night clouds and white of dawn.

I bare my soul, 
she, a white dove, flutters to You, as
I come before You
dressed in white.

frank-yk-whtcyclmn-1My Maker,
I am in Your image.

I am but dust and ashes.

Aid me cleanse.

That I may
walk more clearly,
see more keenly,
choose more wisely,
live more truly,
in the days You grant me on this earth. 

You Who brought me into Life,
look upon me
with compassion.


Photography Credits

First photograph: Kathy Berendt
Second photograph: Leonid Rozenfeld
Third photograph: Frank Dobrushken