On Simchat Torah, we gather,
with hearts heavy,
remembering those taken from us,
in the fields where life once bloomed.
Kibbutzim quieted by sorrow,
echo with voices we still hear,
their absence a wound, raw and open.
We hold in prayer
those still lost in the shadows,
abducted, but never forgotten.
In our yearning, we reach for them,
as we have always reached for peace,
with hands outstretched,
with hope that refuses to fade.
We are a people who know grief,
but who also know resilience,
who hold tight to each other,
even when the world seems to unravel.
Our Torah still speaks,
and we still listen,
to the ancient words that remind us
of who we are,
of who we will always be.
Though the ground beneath us shakes,
our spirit will not fall.
We stand,
we remember,
we pray,
and through tears,
we say,
we will dance again.