Lehitraot

Jewish Gaucho Grads of 2025…

To be loved is to be changed and

to be changed is to be moved. 

I’ve been told to take you to coffee

and knock on paint chipped doors.

So I can know you in every element– 

with colorful clothes and elbows, 

with salt-and-sun bleached kippot,

I wouldn’t guess you studied physics,

(I wouldn’t guess you studied at all). 

During the great move-out, I carried a couch

down the stairs of a friend’s apartment,

and up another; I inherited a mattress

which mazed through Isla Vista 

atop a Honda Civic headed north

to Los Angeles. Movement makes sense,

just like the cloud layer

holding us still

until that day in June.

Like the straggling lock of seagrass

that hitchhiked with you

from Devereux to Sueno,

as your mezuzah will doorframe hop

a blessing farther this year. 

We dare to move-

through compact space crowded with cache.

I’ll remember every one of your epiphanies 

while I map your travels on the back of my hand.

I’ll remember every reason you pulled me 

from my room, routine, and body. 

Your signature surge crashes 

at street corners that end in lingering hugs,

you have been the swell of my life.

I know this town upwells 

opposite of the season. 

So when water cycles through that leak in the ceiling,

I’ll feel your tug beyond the Channel ~

To move intentionally, with every texture of my anatomy. 

To write and sign my name like it’s a gift to you. 

To celebrate life loudly. 

To lean into everything. 

To give time gratitude. 

And of course, to take the plunge.

What a miracle to have passed you by

on this quintessential shoreline;

You have no idea

how your chesed has moved me.

And how big you’ll make waves

wherever you go.