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  • Writer's pictureLeann Shamash

Words have Wings


"Children are an extension of their parents and a profound connection always exists between them, even after death. Because of this enduring connection, the actions of children in this world can impact the soul of a parent in the next world. When a child does something good, meritorious and holy, and does so specifically to benefit the soul of a departed parent, the parent’s soul is elevated. Even without conscious intent, the good that children do, elevates the parent’s soul."

From the site Mykaddish.com


My mother used to recite a short poem to me when I was a child to allay my hurt feelings when children would call me names. It went like this:


"Sticks and stones will break my bones

But names will never harm me."


This poem urges us not to heed words, but time and experience proves that words can sting like a physical assault. Words can cause to our bodies and souls, but words can also repair and heal.

We have all also been calmed by healing words that give us strength in this world to continue even if our spirit is flagging.


Gd used the words and letters to create worlds. Can those letters that form words, that form thoughts and prayers fly back up to the spiritual expanses up high? Can those words, words that someone else wrote down long ago, help to take a soul and fly it higher? Word after word that forms the prayer of the kaddish escape our lips and fly. Where do they do go? What gates do they open? Do they stay close or fall flat when we say them without thinking about them? Whom do the words influence more, the soul of my mother yearning to break free and travel upward and upward some more? Or do the words bounce off the people in the room and fall to the floor, flat and deflated? Or are the words meant to leave my lips to connect only to my inner self, my own healing?



Words Have Wings


Yitgadal

inhale and the word will grow

Wings lacy and wide

cardinal red, incandescent

W e i g h t l e s s

Up it flies

It leaves my lips

I can hear it travel


Yitkadash

It soars through the heavens

Travels past time

Close my eyes and it is gone

Never to be seen again


It blows through celestial storms

Turbulence of winds

But it finds smooth air

Soars a sigh of delight


Finds the gates and enters

Until tomorrow



Photo by Rakicevic Nenad

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