A letter For Grieving Friends …………………..(Psalm 23) גם כי אילך בגאי צלמוו
Those who walk through the Valley of Shadows wear no shoes.
Their feet are cut and torn as they stumble through the darkness.
With no time to pack a bag or say goodbye, they begin their journeys unprepared. Some are dressed in finery: jewels gleaming like stars in the dim light. Others are in pajamas, work clothes, prayer shawls or bathing suits. Some clutch briefcases, papers, blankets or teddy bears.
And everyone wears their grief.
With each cautious, painful step, they move further into the abyss.
The chasm narrows. Stretching out their fingers they trace the grooves carved by previous pilgrims – handholds hewn into the cold canyon walls.
Sometimes they march in silence. Other times, singing hauntingly
beautiful melodies, their voices echo to the very vaults of heaven.
The river that created this place does not flow from on high:
It was formed and filled by the tears of those whose bruised souls
traversed the trail.
No one walks alone here: Stumbling pilgrims are quickly caught and held aloft by those who travel beside them – They are caressed and carried through the brambles and branches that, unexposed and hidden from sight, add to the chaos and confusion of the journey.
In time (for some) a light appears in the distance – piercing through the veil of darkness. Hope – long buried, rises to the surface like a beacon.
And with it, the weary marchers ascend to find a world that has been changed forever by their absence. They return with pale faces and broken hearts. But now, as experienced travelers, they will always have a suitcase packed and ready.
Joe Black is a poet, songwriter, activist and Rabbi at Temple Emanuel in Denver www.emanueldenver.org
