Soaring Souls

Here's another ode to this unbelievable double-month of Adar, as kicked off by parshas Truma and Tetzaveh. I wrote it back in 2003 / 5763, two double-Adars ago, in response to the traumatic death of the first Israeli astronaut, Ilan Ramon, in the horrifically eery destruction of his spacecraft on its way down to Earth.

Though the world had thought he was a typical secular Israeli Jew who, while being proud of his nation had no particualar relationship with Judaism, he proved us all wrong.

UNNNNbelievably wrong.

As just a couple of examples (there were really quite a few, as indicated below), earlier that week he had declared in response to the media's question to him about the new year, that "Jews had a different New Year: Rosh HaShona!" He also proudly displayed a miniture Torah Scroll that had been salvaged from the Holocaust by a Jew who had promised his Rabbi to keep it near the heart of the Jewish people.

Now can anyone consider such a Yid "secular??"

I, like many religious Jews, was deeply touched by this story and mourned for him. But then something occured in my family that made me reflect on this experience on a much deeper level. Much deeper than I can ever express. But I did write a poem about it, which I now feel is time to launch into a different space...

WHEN HEAVEN

TOUCHES


EARTH



A reflection on a parallel loss



*

It all happened in a flash.

A hero was being born.
An Israeli; a scientist; a humanitarian;
a Jew.
A hallower of six million
sacred martyrs.

We heard about him, suddenly,
over the last couple of months.
Expectations sky rocketed
along with his spaceship.

Then, on his way down,
he’s whisked away.
As if snatched back
by a heavenly hand.
In a flash.

Who was this masked man?

Streaking out of the inferno
of our holy people’s degradation,
he plodded the path that so many cherished
and prayed
was the Purpose of it all:
A fighter; a mensch;
accepted
as among the best
of mankind.

He broke completely out of the mold
of Jew
as stranger
to the world.

Until
the moment of truth
when he courageously claimed
that his heretofore neglected religion
transcended all.

Not just a flag, but Kiddush.
Not just a drawing, but a holy scroll
no bigger than the heart which held it close
throughout the fires
of Hell.

When wished a good New Year
he stood straight and declared
that Jews have their own
Rosh HaShona.

His response to viewing Jerusalem
from on high
was nothing less
than praying: SH’MA YISRO’EL!

This was one Jew
who discovered his heavenly roots.


*


It all happened in a flash.

A child was being born.
A pure soul;
a defiance to our fading youth;
a blessing.
His presence graced us
suddenly
over the last two months.

High hopes thrilled our hearts
as we began to feel his.
Then, on his way down,
he’s whisked away.
As if snatched back
by a heavenly hand.

In a flash.

My unborn child has come and gone.
We’ve waited for eight long years.
Not in desperation,
thank G-d,
as we’ve been blessed
with other wonderful children.
But when that direct, heavenly input ceased,
the loss was felt
within the depths of our soul.

Where have you gone,
Oh precious one?
What did you find
during your brief time down here
which scared you so?
Are you, too, mourning
or are you relieved
that your brief sojourn with us
did not imprison you
within the confines
of this world?

I can’t shake
the parallel.

What would have been
if this newly awakened Jew
would have returned
to earth?

How could he have translated
his taste of heaven
into the language of man?

Perhaps he too
was only meant to be with us
for a mere wink
in time?

Perhaps he too
would remain a Jew
best
while straddling the heavens?

Don’t get me wrong.
I’m not so quick to let go
of either of them.
I believe their lofty souls
brushed past this world
at exactly the same time
for a Reason.
I’m just not quite sure
who was not ready for whom.

Indeed
when Torah enters the fray
it’s no coincidence:

“Make for Me a Temple
and I will Dwell amongst them,”
the weekly parsha instructs.
Dwell where? Not in the Temple?!
No – amongst them.
The people.
The Temple is the prism
through which each and every Jew
finds G-d
within his heart.

Got it.

We had been hoping that our heroes
would do all the work.
Our ambassador in space
and my miracle child
would be the Temples
through which we’d escape
our personal confrontations
with G-d.

But now I know
that Jewish unity and youth
are not invincible
commodities.

Now I know
that even the holiest Temples
can crumble
if not inhabited first
within our hearts.

May we be ready,
dear Father,
next time.






* * *