There are only a few prayers that are recited only once a year. Tal, the prayer for dew, is one of them. It is recited on the first day of Passover, as we transition away from the prayer for rain. The climate in Israel is such that the year is evenly divided between a six month rainy season and a six month dry season. During the dry season, rain is virtually nonexistent. Only dew serves to moisten the earth, and scientists have shown that despite its limited quantity it serves an essential and crucial purpose. Already in the Talmud it was recognized that the world could not exist without dew. (Talmud Taanit 3a).

Yet another reason we should admire the wisdom of our ancestors!

The way we pray for dew is notable as well. The prayer Tal consists of an extended poetic metaphor, linking the dew for which we pray with the fecundity and richness of a restored Land of Israel. The prayer, which was written by one of the great early medieval Jewish poets, Eliezer Kallir, brilliantly interweaves dew, the current and future status of the Land, more particularly Jerusalem, and the current and future status of the Jewish people.

For example, the opening verse:

“Dew, precious dew, to satisfy Your Land
Pour out blessings with ecstasy,
Endless wine and corn from Your hand
Build the city of Your fantasy—with Dew.”

Or the conclusion:

“Dew through which You bless all we eat
May You our fatted flocks’ hunger erase
Like sheep Your people follow at Your feet
Treat them please in grace—with Dew.”

Needless to say, this poem is a premier example of the proto-Zionism that permeates the siddur. Just consider that for over a thousand years, Jews in Sweden, Argentina, Australia, or South Africa—literally the four corners of the earth, have been praying for dew in the Land of Israel, thousands of miles away.

In addition, though, it is worth considering the theological message of this prayer. Imagine a grassy field early on a spring morning. The rising sun glistens through millions of droplets of precious water. Our sense of the rich fecundity of the earth is matched (or, at least, ought to be matched) by our awareness that every single one of those diamond drops is a gift from a merciful G-d.