What is holiness? Is it
Separation? Is it inclination?
The intuition of a light
Almost seen, an almost realization…?
When that sense, that cry,
Swarms within you,
Your mind is wonderfully focused
And your sinews brilliance, merci beaucoup.
And the thought that drives
The tenor of your mind finds
Itself in resonance to all
Thoughts, and it pulls up all the blinds,
And you forget no forget-me-nots,
But when your mind spills its
Elixer of a holy draft,
Your thoughts scatter into bits,
Each thought wears its neighbor
Down, shoves it out of the way,
And I grow misty, I forget,
I am stumbling with the breakfast tray,
When Amalek is wiped away,
Everything is clear, nothing forgotten,
And every holy name is full, every throne,
Everything is one, tied to the dot in
The I, memory and sight shine, and
I am no longer weak, no longer soft,
The hand of God rises, all of my thoughts
Are bright as kites carried aloft,
Kites in the form of Torah scrolls,
Their might like the spring wind
Seen through jasper windows
By our children who have never sinned.
Yaacov David Shulman