Monday, 14 February 2011

I have waited till beauty was restored to me

For the Hirsch Family in Mea Sherim

Jerusalem 2010 June

They greet each other with joy and tenderness as they enter. The word they use is the Yiddish 'Shabbos!', but it is pronounced Shabbis!

Having spent an evening on the Blessed Sabbath Friday evening with this family and talking to Shoshanah, I felt so blessed and joyful I could not sleep, so I wrote this poem late at night.

There are layers and layers to our homecoming in this world. My father's Eastern European relatives were Jewish, but I never met them. They all died long ago. Perhaps this was one reason why this meal was, for me, so particularly profound.

I have waited till beauty
Was restored to me
Before I built my house.

I intuited her presence
Through her absence;
The texture and flow
Of her possibilities.

Without her
No construction would be meaningful
No field fertile
And no orchard blossoming.

I waited until beauty
Was restored to me
Before I built my house

What leads the heart to know homecoming?
Only the one who calls.

What leads the heart
To seek till she find Him?
Surely the one who builds.

I waited till beauty
Was restored to me
For without her
No life could be

And He who builds
Restored my soul
And the Palace of Time
He gave me.

No things were changed
Yet all was transformed

I entered the
Temple of Rest

And Joy resided
Where He had decided
We lived in a Time
That was blessed.

No land was required
To structure this home,
The hours were the fabric
Of bliss.

I waited till beauty
Had spoken her name

That mine might be new
Ah Shabbos!

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