Mourning to Dancing

First, a reaching forward.

A subtle movement out of the slump of our shiva chair (not quite upright, but still).

 

Then, the planting of our feet on the ground.

“Yes,” we are here and grounded in the roots of divine justice.

It is now possible to stand.

Though the whispers of fate and even the Angel of Death
Tell us to stay a while.
To reject words of consolation for the heaviness of our sorrow. 
Though they would have us look away from ourselves and all life,
We face the dark.

And somewhere, a prism of light forms.
We can barely make it out.
But when our vision and we, too, are ready
We see it as bright as day:

“Arise.”

 

Arise in the presence of friends. 

Arise and leave behind the tear and the tearing.

Arise and make those first few steps among the living.

And though we stand up and sit down,
Agonize over what we are able to do and not do,

Individual acts of mind, body, and soul
Will lead us to give up the grief and ignite our dry bones.
 

And one of these days when we least expect it, we will find ourselves dancing.