Jane Schapiro Even the blank spaces are God-given, the rabbi explained while unrolling the scroll. Focus on a letter and you'll find beneath the black ink, another one etched in white. Leaning forward, I squinted one eye, then the other. Keep looking, he urged, his pointer circling the parchment. We lingered like two figures in an unlit field, he, with his outstretched arm, insisting, and I, scanning the heavens. Yes, there it is, I finally declared, as I used to while waiting for Orion's belt to emerge from three lonely stars.
Prairie Schooner – University of Nebraska Press
Published: Aug 13, 2007