Mom wrote:

Judith,

You are ceaselessly resilient.

Enjoy your trip.

I hope you find what you’re looking for

out there in the desert.

Follow in Moses’ footsteps.

I don’t know what she meant,

I told her my name is

Robert.

I have told her too many times to count.

It hasn’t been Judith for fifteen years.

I was going to go by

The Universe,

Because it is endless and indefinable,

But Robert was my favorite uncle’s name.

The first and only one to call me

When I was no longer Judith.

So I went to the desert,

The ancient one,

The one where Jesus practiced his shtick,

The one where they first said

“the kingdom of heaven is all around us,”

but we don’t see it.

I stand high upon the dunes,

Where the voices of the world

Whisper through grains of sand

And the whipping wind speaks of

The truthful calamities,

The undying vulgarities,

The untouched oases,

The venomous hatred hidden in sparkling irises.

I stand and hear my true name in between

The blue sky stretching infinitely onward

And the desert, beyond scripture,

Beyond ceaseless resilience,

Beyond Moses splitting the seas,

Beyond letters that do not define me.