Praised be the Lord
Your flaws are everywhere:
In the elm's unbalanced foliage
and the asymmetric faces of Your creatures.
You form the ripping floods
that tear the forests
and bend tornadoes in a twisted dance.
The lion is blotched with age and mud,
and the Shabbas silverware lies stained
as a reminder.
Praised be Your Torah of scratches and scars.
Praised be Your discolorations,
for they are puzzles and poems
of your sacred character.
To one that is joined to all the living, there is hope