I want to worship the Sun

I want to worship the Sun.

Not the creator of the Sun. Not the master of the Sun. Not the King and Ruler of the Sun. Not even the breath of life of the Sun.

I want to worship the Sun.

I want to worship the tides, I want to worship the trees, I want to worship my cat. I want to worship the body of my partner. I am done, frankly, with shorthand. I don’t want to worship words.

I want to worship the Sun. And still be Jewish.