Poem Submission from Toronto, Canada

That Kotel Moment

You long for that feeling.

That feeling.

You know, the one you are

Supposed

To feel in Israel.

Immersed in the antiquity and history of

Your people.

The feeling of harmony with the

Yemenite store owner,

Hardworking kibbutz-nik,

And random black hatter strolling on Ben Yehudah.

All enveloped under our Jewish state that we fought so hard to obtain.

These casual encounters should be enough.

Right?

You know, to have that feeling.

Truth be told: this did not truly suffice.

The Kotel was the place that defined that “expected” feeling.

Constantly reminding you that you are home.

A feeling that sends shivers up and down your body,

Reaching every last nerve,

Adequate enough to send you a startling jolt.

Making your heart palpitate as if you had just witnessed a ghost or a miracle.

But in fact, that is exactly what you have just observed.

The ghost is the spirit of your beloved lost grandfather (your Zidy to be exact).

He approaches you for that brief yet substantial moment as if he were there,

Standing with you,

Gripping onto that sacred wall with such might as if it were the

End of the world around us.

A moment so brief that when retelling the magic that just occurred,

The tale seems like an utter

Exaggeration.

But far from a fabrication it was.

A miracle did in fact ensue at the Kotel.

Those countless, ordinary stones bound together by the Jewish people’s

Past struggles.

And future celebrations,

Reunited you and your Zidy (the Yiddish word for grandfather),

For that brief,

Yet life-altering moment.

Thus,

You finally felt that feeling you were longing for.

You know, the one you are

Supposed

To feel in Israel.

Jessica Pollock