In the title poem of Dan Bellm's Counting, a circle of rabbis in Talmudic times confess to each other ruefully, "I have never in my life prayed with intention...." "I have been counting chickens...." "I have been counting the layers of stone in the wall...." These poems, on a seeking-and-straying spiritual quest of their own, count and recount the layers of days in a life, ranging widely from yearning, elegy and political outrage to passion, devotion, and gratitude.
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