The little town
perched above a wooded valley
famed for its sixteenth century
hosting of the great
luminaries of Kabbalah
Luria, Cordovero, Alkabetz
men who raised the spiritual
skyline of the faith
their gravesites on the hillside
visited by Jewish pilgrims
like myself

My yeshivah roommate
the one night I stayed
a man of few words
had come from Germany
in the morning he suggested
a walk across the valley
to see the holy shrine at Meron

The shrine of Bar Yochai
2nd century rabbi
revered for writing Zohar
the holy Book of Splendor
written in fact
in Spain and a millenium
after Bar Yochai's death

Pausing mid-walk
we sat and my companion
shared with me a story

On the day of his wedding
his fiancee was killed
it was Munich or Berlin
she was crossing the street
struck down by a car
pregnant
nearly full term
the doctors saved the child
their son, now a grown man
living in the US
since then
my friend told me
he had made the choice
to lead a single life

On the bus back to Tsfat
he put the question to me
so do you believe
there's survival after death?
I knew what he was asking
perhaps even why
and without hesitating
I answered Yes I do
the words came easily
since it was what I thought
this sweet man needed to hear

Since then
more than once
spirits have sought me out
brought messages to pass on
to others still among the living
yet I've never known
how to answer for myself
the question I was asked
all those years ago
on the bus
between Meron and Tsfat