The Call of Return
a Poem by Oriyahu Yair
I know that You know my present state,
I know that You have seen the place where I am standing.
I am filled with impurity as it is.
Shamefully standing before You, how can I ever seek You?
My hands as it is are filled with blood!
Mud and dirt enclose me all around
O Precious Lord, Most Merciful;
Grant Your aid unto this Soul wallowed into the deepest abyss!
I know, O L-rd, that I am unworthy to utter Your Name sacred.
For this tongue is drenched in defilement as it is.
Oh, You whose name my lips cannot utter.
Cause my heart to move itself and set its Fire aflame!
My limbs are unceasingly shaking, as I tremble in awe of You!
With a Lightning Flash have you caused the resurrection of my Being.
As the Dew of Light descends from Above downwards,
O, the Sweet Taste of the Amrita of Life invigorates my senses!
Transmute me, O L-rd, and purify the Dross of my Soul;
Turn this soil of the earth into a Golden Dust!
For from the Fires of Your Mercy, O L-rd, all things are renew and rectified.
You cause all Beings to find the Hidden Stone from within them.
Thus, bring us back, O Father, into the purity of Your Divine Countenance.
Make us the Children of Your Palace once more.
For it is certainly true that Godhood is our Birthright.
And the time has come for us to rightfully claim it, under Thy mercy!
So Mote It Be!