Replenished Spirits

The stone walls ripple rough waves.
Auburn. Amber. Sand. Colors of the earth.
Lavender. Periwinkle. Blue. The sky is
A perfect gradation.
These bus window views are so sweet.

Simple street signs and traffic signals
shine with the eloquent language of the Torah.
I smile as nostalgia whispers to me
my fathers bedtime tales about Rabbi Akiva,
little stories about the sages.

Back in T'koa, the skies were pink and orange
The lands flowed seamlessly. Muslim prayer murmered
Every person spoke with no rush,
feeling every word stroll out of the mouth.

On Friday night, our voices rose up
to Carlebach's Lecha Dodi and filled the air
and the lace mechitza and colored curtains
waved as smoothly as the whisps of hair
falling out from the bright paisley mitpachats.

The simple joy of existing here in Israel and
breathing the holy air sent me soaring into the air,
the wind blowing by bell sleeves gently.
I felt a tiny ballerina twirling within my depths.

Back in Arad, I ran down the cliffs,
the mountains were continuous and empty
extending so far that there wasn't a line to make.
Just a whimsical blue haze
separating the earths from the heavenly skies.

I felt them within me.
Even just a couple seconds was enough.
From up close, the mountains were rocky and dirty.
But from afar, all the mountains stuck together.
I felt them within me.

If we pick apart our memories and look up close,
it's easy to see the negative.
But when we let all the memories sit together,
the big picture is even more awe-some.

These mountains quilt together phases
of changes, transformations, and intentions.
The struggles rocky steps just a part of the bigger quilt.
A puzzle piece that tessellates.

Back in Be'er Sheva, when I held that lovely pigeon,
I could not stop laughing and smiling at the feeling.
The tickling sensation that
this land was changing me. Slowly into
someone I'd never known before.
It brought within me peace.

I get it. I finally understand.
Drum rolls please.
The million dollar question.

Why do people live here despite the fear of terrorism?
How do they raise children in such a Verona?

Because it's worth it. Every single rock in the mountains
makes it worth it. Just the simple joy of existing
and breathing the fresher holy airs.
The people's warmth and best priorities.
Israel brings peace.

As I traveled to T'koa that Friday afternoon
for the first time on a bus alone,
I saw a maze of sandy mountains and green,
and I couldn't help but cry.

This land is too beautiful!
So how could it be so hated by it's neighbors?
I see a place of purity and elevation
while they see a vile place of hate.
It doesn't make much sense to me.
So yeah, there's still that question.

I won't ever forget those mountains
and the light blue film the textures of shadow
that are so uniform in lack of formity.
Laughing and dancing endlessly
these campers didn't realize that
when they opened my heart,
they filled my spirit too.

The drawings held a certain essence.
A dreamer letting her dreams run free.
Wanderlusting on a golden tapestry
of effervescent joy.

I see everything fit together.
Pumping fists in the air with campers.
Earbuds singing stories in my ears.
Conversations about the deeper meanings.

The spirits all connect.

You know what the best part is?
Is that even though the experience is over,
I am still here. And these changes are too.
Hashem will give out his tests.
And this new girl will take them on.
With her new replenished spirit.