"The Bridge of Baal HaSulam"

I walked with pockets full of dreams,

And shoes with holes that leaked in streams.

The path was steep, the sky was torn,

I cursed the day that I was born.

Then came a man with eyes of flame,

Who called my sorrow out by name.

He said, “Child, your grief’s not random fate,

It’s bait to pull you to Heaven’s gate.”

He laughed at my pride, and slapped my despair,

Said, “The Creator put both in your hair.

One’s to lift, the other to bend,

Both are tools to reach the end.”

“The world,” he said, “is a crooked hall,

With mirrors that trick and shadows that call.

But if you link arms, all hearts as one,

You’ll find the doorway back to the Sun.”

And so we walk, in mud and in light,

Some days we stumble, some nights we fight.

But oh, when a friend takes your burden to bear—

You feel the Creator already there.

So thank you, Rav, for the map and the song,

For showing the weak where the strong belong.

In the end we will laugh at the pain we have known,

For all of it carved us into His own.