G. Orah Adarah Paris

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A Ki Tisa Poem: Transmutation

This poem emerges from a parashat that tells of a particularly dark moment in our history—a time when our people fashioned and worshipped a golden calf. In response, I chose to explore a positive theme of t transmutation within this parasha, focusing on transformations that are pleasing to Gd.

The ketoret קְטֹרֶת (incense) made from various spices holds profound symbolism. It burned from morning to evening. The root קטר itself can mean “to bond,” reflecting a deeper connection. The ketoret consisted of eleven components: ten representing the sefirot, along with one embodying the klipot (husks), unpleasant characteristics we strive to change by releasing their light.

Still partially shrouded in mystery, these spices were renowned for their medicinal properties and pleasant aromas. There were exceptions, such as one with a foul smell and another enigmatic ingredient believed to shape the smoke in a unique way, like no other. Interestingly, among these spices was the shell of a mollusk used to create blue dye—a symbol of the sustainable and interconnected nature of all creation.

Flame that burns

Peacefully

Glows on my face, heart,

And hands

What rare spices did I give for You?

What did I sacrifice for You day and night.

My heart steadily burns always for You

And it feels perfect.

Is it for You or is it to be me?

No one needs a golden calf.

I am with You in awareness.

You are my awareness.

I am humbled.

The 11 spices burning –

The number of klipot.

Some spices a mystery –

An unknown pleasure.

A warm, brownish-reddish hue;

A memory of your sturdy tree-

Both hidden and completely revealed.

Smoke rising perfectly vertically –

Must our own ascent be perfect?

Not all the individual scents are.

Our scented souls can always ascend.

The heart is always here,

And it knows how.

Everything is always together.

Every spice, every desire, matters.

No one needs a golden calf.

I am with You in awareness.

You are my awareness.

I am humbled.

Our flame burns always,

Steadily to live,

It burns spices born

From arid land and high mountains,

Thick forests, humid tropics, and sea.

We burn our blue-dye shells,

Husks born of toil, tears, and sky

Above, where smoke rises, disappearing

Into the world of breath and soul.

For more poems on Torah: Better Than You Wished For

About the Author

For questions, contact me: oragadarah [at] gmail [dot] com A teacher of Torah, hypnotherapist, and artist. She has over 15 years experience organizing a variety of Jewish classes, and previously served as a synagogue board member and a Scout leader. She has studied psychology, physics, and Judaic studies. She aims to be elegantly interdisciplinary in all her work, to reflect the richness, beauty, and depth of life and Judaism. She is also finishing up her first novel, Girl Between Realms, a story of Jewish mysticism and Torah through the lens of one young woman’s journey. She recently published Better Than You Wished: Poetic meditations from Torah, Science and Life, link here: https://shorturl.at/ClD5Q . She is based in Paris, (like her last name), where she promoted the first community-wide series of Jewish events on sustainability.

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