“God is not far from you, only in your place there are many garments.”
— Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (1772–1810)
I awoke and I was naked.
For one glorious second of infinity, I wore no clothes.
I lived for that briefest of moments in the perfection of the cosmos.
I was as pure as the orbit of a planet or a constellation in the night sky.
But then, I cloaked my soul.
I placed a glass wall between it and the world.
I called out to God, but my ears heard only an echo.
I hid my soul’s passions, concealing their light.
I surrounded my soul with beliefs, clouding its sight.
I demanded my soul abide by the strictures of time.
I deflected its attention with the cravings of my mind.
I immersed it in the truths of the day to find success in this world.
I readied it to battle my fellow men, carrying a flag unfurled.
I spoke much but rarely listened,
and so took lifetimes to understand —
that the clothed soul is imperfect,
and that is part of being human.
Still, the memory of that briefest of moments sings eternally to my soul.
It reminds me, in these fractured times,
that I am already whole.
Other poems in this series:
Jason Deutsch
Jason Deutsch
