Michael Adam Latz says it best (and thats usually the case). Thank you, Michael, for putting into words what we all were feeling last night: For those with goldy locks and whispy strands and tight curls and sandy blond streams that cascade down our heads and frame our faces, our eyes, our perspective, our universe: Tonight, we shear away the hair from our heads to reveal a promise we made as rabbis of Israel: To hold each other as Sinai trembles and the earth shakes and the universe appears hafukh— upside down, disordered, blurry with grief. Tonight is M’tzorah~the un-Purim: We take off our masks, Our bodies live as vessels of grief For every child who died too soon For every parent who tucked them into the earth For every person with a conscience who must be woken from apathetic slumber to rise and stop the cause for such weeping. Tonight Underneath artificial fluorescent lights We do the act that is most real Most authentic Most sacrificial: We return to a state of baldness. But this is no Gan Eden, And there is no sweet fruit of wisdom to tempt us. It is an agonizing rebirth One collapsing with damning fury and aching hope, A cry of defiance against despair, A possibility to be teachers of promise, peddlers of life and tenderness and gentleness. As we are shorn For every parent saying Kaddish, and every baby dead too soon, We pray that the light that bounces off our heads Radiates to every heart And cracks open the doorway to boundless compassion And fierce love.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 15:00:20 +0000
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