WORDS THAT BREATHE

Each seder gathered a constellation of color and courage: Blacks and Jews, Black Jews and people of color—Bishops and Rabbis, churches and synagogues, choir singing, and the cacophony of connection and contemplation— We were a veritable mosaic of Moses’ people, linking arms, lifting hearts, lamenting and loving in equal measure.

A jazz club. A Torah whisper. A T-shirt with a prophet’s promise. Reflections from the CCAR rabbinic convention on listening for the sacred in unexpected places—and improvising our way toward hope.

A spoken word poem about facing the reality before our world

As we step into the tides of tomorrow, this prayer invites us to treasure the gift of time, uncover holiness in the everyday, and return to kindness, generosity, and wisdom. May the new year be one of gratitude, growth, and peace in all its forms.

Rabbi Paul Kipnes of Congregation Or Ami offers a heartfelt invocation at the Calabasas City Council Reorganization Meeting, celebrating the installation of Mayor Peter Kraut. Reflecting on leadership, unity, and the city’s vision, the prayer calls for compassion, courage, and a commitment to community care.

In this spoken word poem, explore how Abraham's parents might have felt as he went off from Haran to the Promised Land, in search of his future.

A Psalm for our cities on fire, after the killing of George Floyd

An open letter to Jewish leaders about how to lead through Covid-19 present and future.

A Jewish prayer finding strength in the responses of our ancestors to the trials in their lives. Specially written for during the Covid-19 outbreak

A poem providing insight into mourning during the in-between times.

A poem about facing the moments over the High Holy Days - small but meaningful - when my dad won't be there.

A poem about those moments when I'm not feeling the sadness in the midst of the mourning.

Poem about when a friend visited me during my dad's shiva.

Standing for Kaddish that first time is surreal. This poem captures the multitude of feelings as I stood in temple to recite Kaddish for my father Ken Kipnes.

I am still a mourner. A poem about how my body - tears, trembling shoulders, welling up of emotions - remind me that I am still a mourner. Remembering my father, Ken Kipnes.

Low level sadness, right beneath the surface, is the constant guest in the heart and mind of the mourner. This poem reflects those feelings during shloshim for my father, Ken Kipnes, Papa.

A spoken word poem about the theological questions that arise after the death of a loved one. Written as I think about my father Ken Kipnes.

A video that explores what it feels like to be a mourner, featuring my poem - The Secret Life of a Mourner.

A poem about my experience as a mourner following the ritual of not shaving during Shloshim.

A poem about what a mourner experiences, hidden away from the rest of the world, sometimes hidden even from friends or community members