Redemptive Prayer

For a few coins more to a soldier of Rome,
He could stay a little longer to mourn for his home.
The heaviness of his heart matched the sorrowful sound
Of shofar's blowing on that ruined ground.

Flames reached toward the heavens on that fateful day
When the G-d of Israel seemed to turn away.
"Oh, L-rd of our fathers," he tearfully cried,
"How could we have fallen in such vain pride?"

The people were dispersed by imperial command,
And the strangers' name was given to the Holy Land.
His eyes were blinded by stinging tears,
As he contemplated Judah's captive years.

The curse of the Law would be their part,
Until they could return with whole heart.
The red sun dropped in the western sky,
Shrouding the lone remaining wall of an age gone by.

He remembered the glory of the Temple of Solomon,
Dedicated by the sparkling cloud of Hashem.
His heart of hearts said the Temple would be wondrously rebuilt,
And Israel would be lovingly cleansed of all her guilt.

Had not Rabbi Akiva laughed in joyous elation,
The redemption would surely follow the foretold desolation?
With renewed faith that made his spirit soar,
He lifted the shofar to blow it once more.

He prayed for fulfillment of the prophecies of hope,
That the people need not long in darkness grope.
And on that day the shofar would not mournfully cry sadness,
But trumpet an aliyah call-a shout of gladness!

~Miriam~
1985