וְתֵן טַל וּמָטָר לִבְרָכָה
“Give dew and showers for a blessing”
(from the winter liturgy)
The dew from Heaven will not descend till all below is still and silent. It cannot cover us with its droplets of pure blessing while busy storms buffet us from without, blustering winds echo through our minds within.
And after the dew come the showers, tears shed in hope and in remorse, weeping in yearning for the Encounter, sobbing in grief over all the dreadful waste.
And after the showers, the streams merge and flow as a single river to water the Garden: the meadow’s browned grasses green again, furry buds spike and bloom, and over there, as the mist rises, could that be the Tree?
ושבו העבים אחר הגשם