SONG OF SONGS: CHAPTER FIVE (end of Song Three, Song Four)

Once, she was wholly awake to his advances, responsive and eager. Now, she remains in her state of repose, hesitant to acknowledge the knocking at her door, the memory of their union becoming a distant dream.

by Rabbi Boruch Merkur

In the enclosed garden, a serene oasis, he arrives – drawn by longing. The vibrant colors, fragrant aromas, and gentle hum of life surrounds him. The Beloved steps into the heart of this sanctuary, his garden, where the memories of shared moments with his bride linger.

"I have come to my garden," he declares, his voice filled with a mix of wonder and contentment. Every step he takes is a dance of reunion with the sacred space, with his own heart, and with the memory of his bride.

Picking up a sprig of myrrh, he feels its cool, fragrant resin. The scent transports him to moments of deep spiritual introspection and yearning. Alongside, the aroma of various spices wafts into the air – each one a testament to the richness of his inner experiences.

He tastes the honey, its sweetness an echo of past joys and love shared. With every bite of the honeycomb and every sip of the wine, he is reminded of the ebb and flow of their love – its intoxicating highs and its grounding moments.

Yet, despite the deep personal connection he feels to this space, the Beloved is not alone. He invites others, fellow seekers of love and truth, to partake in the garden's bounty. "Eat, lovers, and drink," he beckons, "Drink deep of love!" It's an open invitation to immerse oneself in the depths of divine love, to experience it fully, to let it transform one's being.

All this while, the maiden, deep in slumber within the chambers of Solomon, remains oblivious to the Beloved's presence. Days, perhaps even more, have passed since their last shared moment. A poignant realization sets in: the third song has reached its poignant conclusion.

The narrative underscores the profound intertwining of physical and spiritual worlds. The garden, more than a mere physical space, is a nexus of deeper meanings and insights. Through this garden, one glimpses the profound union of the Beloved and his cherished, an allegory of the divine and the soul. And as the narrative unfolds, it becomes evident that the garden's blessings aren't just for the Beloved but extend to all of creation, a testament to the boundless love and generosity of the Divine.

*

In the quiet of the night, she rests on her bed, gentle slumber embracing her form. Yet within her heart, an ember of memory glows, a faint recollection of her divine suitor who once fervently pursued her. As if responding to this internal yearning, the familiar voice of her Beloved echoes, knocking softly at her door. "Open to me, my sister, my dove, my flawless one," he whispers. "For my head is drenched with dew, my locks soaked with the night's moisture."

This is not their first such encounter. Once, she was wholly awake to his advances, responsive and eager. Now, she remains in her state of repose, hesitant to acknowledge the knocking, the memory of their union becoming a distant dream. His voice, filled with yearning and a touch of sorrow, brings to mind past moments of intimacy and connection.

Yet, this is a different chapter in their tale. This is the narrative of a celestial bride, the soul of Solomon, who was once deeply connected to her divine lover. Over time, however, she has been swayed by other pursuits, seduced by foreign loves, her heart turning away from the divine and being drawn into the allure of the material. The divine lover, witnessing this drift, approaches her now, knocking at her door, seeking reconnection. But she hesitates, reluctant to open up and renew their bond.

The divine Beloved, sensing her hesitation, once departed in disappointment and sorrow. This episode mirrors a moment in Solomon's life when he turned away from the divine path, leading to a period of estrangement from the Divine Presence. The repercussions of this distance are felt deeply by Solomon, and he yearns for reconciliation. But the journey back is not easy; the door to divine encounters remains shut for him.

And so, here they are again. The Divine Lover knocks once more at the door of the slumbering soul, hoping for a response, a rekindling of their once passionate bond. The night is silent, save for the gentle knocking and the whispered entreaties of the Beloved. The choice now rests with her: will she rise and open the door, or remain in her state of spiritual slumber? The story of their love, filled with moments of union and separation, continues to unfold.

In the cool evening, the gentle wind rustles through the open windows, causing the curtains to dance. She sits by her window, lost in thought, her robe lying beside her. She had only just taken it off, feeling the embrace of solitude. Would she need to wear it again so soon? Her feet, once washed and clean, rested delicately on the cool floor. Would she walk and soil them once more?

Responding silently to the musings of her soul, she thinks of her past experiences. The journey of the soul is likened to the wearing of garments, particularly robes of light. These garments are symbols of the spiritual attainments one achieves, especially through the study and practice of the sacred texts. It's as if each piece of wisdom is woven into a fabric that cloaks the soul, protecting and illuminating it. Before her lapses, she wore these luminous garments. But now, because of her misdeeds, she feels she has shed this celestial attire. It's as if she's been stripped of that ethereal light that once clothed her.

Reflecting on her current state, she feels akin to one who has bathed their feet, symbolizing the body's connection to the soul. Just as feet are to a body, providing support and direction, the body is to the soul. In moments of prophecy, one must remove this earthly connection, shedding worldly attachments, much like removing one's shoes. But she feels she's already cleansed herself of these material ties. Would she now dirty them again by diving back into the tangible world?

She ponders deeply, grappling with her current reality. The idea of prophecy is one that once seemed within reach, but now feels distant. The memory of those lofty spiritual moments is fresh, but the weight of her actions and the challenges of the material world are ever-present. She longs for the days when her soul was enrobed in light and her feet danced in celestial realms. Yet she also acknowledges the undeniable pull of the tangible world and her place within it. The tension between these two realities plays out in her heart, a silent struggle filled with yearning and introspection.

In the quiet of the evening, she stands behind the closed door, anticipating the moment he might arrive. Times exist when they speak face to face, where the intimacy of their conversation feels as tangible as the surrounding air. But now, things are different.

The woman, absorbed in her daily affairs, inadvertently closes off the avenues to deeper communication. She feels distant, though her heart yearns for closeness. Yet, even in this state of isolation, her Beloved never truly leaves her side.

Without a direct entry, the Beloved, representing the Divine presence, reaches out. His hand, symbolic of prophecy, extends through the chink, not fully entering her room but making its presence known. This isn't the intimate, face-to-face interaction they often share, but a revelation of prophecy filled with both admonishments and consequences.

She senses the weight of the message, a potent blend of love and correction. As the wisdom flows through the gap, it's as if a river of enlightenment courses through her, filling her being with an awareness of past actions and choices. Profound regret for her deeds wells up, and a yearning takes over—a desire to return to the sacred closeness she once knows. She recalls the sacred shelter, the canopy of divine connection, where she feels the mystery and majesty of the Beloved's presence.

With his touch, even from a distance, her heart stirs. It pulses with longing, with remorse, and with hope. She recognizes the divine outreach: an invitation back to a time of greater unity and understanding. Even in his subtle approach, she senses the profound love of her Beloved, forever beckoning, always seeking reconnection.

The dim light of the evening casts a soft glow over the room. The woman, roused from her reverie, feels a stirring deep within. This feeling is familiar yet profoundly sacred. It is an undeniable pull, an internal beckoning to reconnect with something greater.

"I rose," she murmurs, her voice reflecting her determination, "to let in my Beloved."

As she nears the door, she notes a delicate sensation on her hands, reminiscent of the fragrant myrrh that signifies a spiritual ascent. Drops of myrrh, reflective of the elevation of the life force within her, glisten on her fingers. They are signs of her deepening connection to the divine, markers of her soul's attempt to elevate and purify itself from the mundane.

But this time is different. Her spiritual ascent isn't as powerful as before. The aromatic resin that flows from her signifies her efforts to elevate her soul, drawing from both the life and the plant kingdoms. In the past, whenever she'd felt the call of divinity, she could effortlessly elevate the entirety of her being, transforming her entire essence. Now, only her hands, symbolic of her actions, are imbued with this essence. Her fingers, which denote specific deeds, drip with myrrh, but the scent is fleeting, evaporating the moment it comes in contact with the bolt on her door.

This door, this barrier, represents the physical constraints and distractions she contends with. Every time she reaches out, attempting to break free from the confines of her material existence and open herself to the Divine, the myrrh, symbolic of her spiritual achievements, fades. Her previous ardor and intensity, that unyielding drive to connect with the Almighty, now wavers. The challenges and temptations are greater, overpowering her with increasing frequency, making it harder for her to maintain her spiritual heights.

Yet, she doesn't despair. The very act of rising and attempting to let in her Beloved, despite the barriers, showcases her relentless spirit. She remains hopeful, knowing that the journey of spirituality is filled with peaks and troughs, and every effort, no matter how small, brings her one step closer to the Divine.

In the courtyard of a grand palace, the maiden's voice resonates with the lament, "I opened the door for my beloved." The walls laden in gold and precious stones glisten in response, reflecting the luminance of dawn. Each echo carries the weight of her anticipation, a hope to find her Beloved on the other side of the door. This act of opening is not just the physical movement of doors; it symbolizes her intent to transcend the material barriers, to unveil the essence of her spirit, yearning to connect with her Beloved.

But her heart sinks as she realizes, "But my beloved had turned and gone." The place where he once stood, promising shared moments of intimacy, now lay empty and desolate. A haunting silence envelops her as she recalls the intensity of his parting words, making her confess, "I was faint because of what he said."

With hope still burning, she searches every corner of the palace, her footsteps echoing in the vast corridors. She longs to find him, to feel the warmth of his embrace, and in her yearning, she admits, "I sought, but found him not." Her voice, filled with desperation, permeates the hallways as she calls out to him. Yet, every echo returns with the painful acknowledgment, "I called, but he did not answer."

Her heart, once alight with passion and understanding, now grapples with the profound silence, the emptiness left by his departure. Yet, amidst the echoing corridors and the haunting stillness, a glimmer of hope remains. She believes in a reunion, in a moment when the barriers will dissolve, and she will once again be united with her Beloved.

In the shadowed alleyways of the city, her footsteps echo softly. With each step, she seeks solace and yearns for her Beloved's presence. The city's vastness, previously a beacon of hope and splendor, now stands as a labyrinthine maze of despair and longing. The walls, once symbols of protection, now seem to close in on her.

Suddenly, she encounters the watchmen patrolling the town. Their presence is overpowering, representing the forces that confine and bind the spirit to the material world. "I met the watchmen who patrol the town; they struck me, they bruised me," her voice quivers, revealing the profound conflict between her spiritual aspiration and the worldly forces that resist her transcendence.

They represent not just mere guards but the formidable energies that tether the soul to its corporeal confines. These watchmen, embodiments of earthly desires and limitations, brutally remind her of the struggle the soul faces when attempting to rise above. Their aggression isn't just physical, but a deep affliction to her very essence, forcing her spirit to remain intertwined with her bodily desires, pains, and limitations.

The guards of the walls stripped me of my mantle, she whispers, reflecting on her loss. This isn't just an outer garment; it's the elevated consciousness she once wore proudly. The watchmen have deprived her of her prophetic insights, the ability to perceive without barriers, boundlessly. It's as though her very thoughts, previously expansive and unconfined, are now trapped, limited by the material constraints that surround her.

In this harrowing moment, she realizes the true challenge: her spirit, aiming to soar freely in the realm of prophecy, is constantly pulled down, shackled by the corporeal. It's a battle between the spiritual yearning for transcendence and the earthly forces that relentlessly pull her back to the tangible realm.

In the heart of Jerusalem, where the cobbled streets echo with ancient tales and whispered prayers, a lone woman stands, her gaze fervent, her heart ablaze. Her voice, though soft, carries a weight that the very stones seem to heed. "Maidens of Jerusalem," she beseeches, her eyes scanning the crowd, "I adjure you, if you encounter my Beloved in your wanderings, convey to him but a single message: that I am faint with love."

The news of her search travels fast, a wildfire of whispers. The maidens, intrigued and moved by her plea, feel the gravity of her words. But beneath the surface of this plea lies a deeper allegory. The soul of Solomon perceives a truth: it can no longer find its Beloved, meaning it cannot attain this level of understanding and connection in its current state of life. The only time it might truly encounter its Divine counterpart is at the brink of life's transition - at the moment of passing.

This revelation is drawn from profound wisdoms, suggesting that only in the precipice between life and the beyond does the soul experience a revelation of the Divine, as if the curtain separating the earthly and heavenly realms momentarily lifts. It is then that the Divine manifests to the righteous, revealing Himself in a way that mirrors their earthly connection to Him. This fleeting union allows the soul to merge back into its source, like a droplet returning to the ocean.

With this insight, the woman's plea to the maidens takes on new depths. The "maidens of Jerusalem" represent the various facets of her own being. She entreats these parts of herself to recognize and embrace the presence of her Beloved when they encounter Him during the transition of life's end. They are the first to sense Him, and when they do, they should communicate to Him the depth of her longing, her overwhelming love that has rendered her faint.

The streets of Jerusalem seem to shimmer with a new light. The woman's quest, her passionate plea, is not just a search for an earthly beloved but a profound spiritual journey, seeking union with the Divine.

As the sun casts long shadows across the cobblestone streets, the women of the city, their eyes filled with curiosity, surround her, the one they deem the fairest among them.

How, they inquire with a hint of envy, "is your Beloved superior to any other? What makes him so special that your love for him seems unparalleled? You speak of him with such fervor; it feels almost as if you are swearing us to a sacred bond. What is it about this love that you hold so dear?"

In a parallel realm, the nations, symbolic of the physical world, echo a similar sentiment as they approach the soul. They cannot fathom the depth of the spiritual love the soul harbors for the Divine. "Explain to us," they beckon, "the distinction between this spiritual yearning you have for God and the worldly passions we know. To us, these earthly loves are tangible, but we struggle to grasp the essence of this celestial affection you describe."

The soul, reflecting the mystery in her eyes, replies, "My love for the Divine is not just about His hidden essence or the nature of His being. It's about an eternal connection, a bond that transcends the physical and the spiritual. This love is why I search for Him relentlessly, as if my very existence depends on it."

The city's women listen intently, sensing that her relationship with her Beloved is more profound than any they know. The nations, too, stand in silence, attempting to grasp the profound bond the soul describes, a love so vast and deep that it seems to reach the very heavens.

In the shimmering streets of Jerusalem, where the play of light and shadow forms a dance of its own, the women remain gathered, their attention unwavering. Their faces mirror a combination of envy, curiosity, and genuine desire to understand the unparalleled affection she feels for her Beloved.

My Beloved, she begins, her voice as serene as the calm after a storm, "is clear-skinned and ruddy, his complexion a perfect blend of grace and strength. Such a combination isn't just a measure of physical attributes but symbolizes the intricate balance of compassion and judgment, representing both the clarity and hue of red."

The gathered women exchange glances, trying to grasp the depth of her words. The soul continues, articulating her emotions and the insights she has garnered over time.

When I speak of him as being 'clear-skinned', it isn't just about his physical appearance. It's about the Divine attribute of boundless kindness, represented by clarity. And 'ruddy' doesn't merely denote a color; it speaks of Divine justice, as fierce and passionate as the color red itself. These traits, seemingly opposing, emanate from the same source. He isn't just a combination of two forces, but the very origin of both good and evil, life and death, benevolence and strictness. They spring forth from a single root, challenging the belief of some who argue they stem from separate origins.

She takes a breath, allowing her words to sink in, before adding, "Furthermore, he is preeminent among ten thousand. His essence gathers myriad powers, acting as the fountainhead for them all. This is why he is often termed 'God' – a union of all cosmic forces, an existence where nothing exists outside of Him."

The words linger in the air, resonating with the whispers of prophecy. The women, deeply affected by the profound wisdom she imparts, are left in a state of contemplation, realizing that the love she shares with her Beloved isn't just earthly or physical; it's a bond carved out of eternal truths, celestial insights, and timeless revelations.

In a land where golden palaces crowned the horizon, she gazes upon Him, captivated by the aura of His being. The majesty of His countenance shines before her.

His head, a symbol of His concealed thoughts and supreme desires, stands as an enigma. Before they were revealed, His thoughts were like the most intricate of mysteries. She likens it to the finest gold, not the soft malleable kind, but to hard gold, signifying something profoundly valuable yet completely concealed. It's as though there's nothing within, yet it's the most treasured element in the lower world. This represents something incredibly precious, yet utterly hidden and beyond comprehension.

As she looks further, she notes His locks, extensions of the mind that manifest its innermost depths. These tendrils signify the initial revelation of His concealed thoughts, through which the hidden lights of cognition emerge. These locks, like waves upon waves, hold entire universes, endless in their vastness. But their color, black as a raven, speaks of a profound enigma. The deep blackness absorbs all light, symbolizing the vast concealment within. Their luminance is hidden, cloaked within, revealing nothing. They are so enigmatic, like a raven, that it's nearly impossible to discern any differentiation or characteristic within them.

The ongoing prophecy continues to unravel as the land itself seems to listen, resonating with the depth of the allegorical meanings that flow with each verse, bridging the gap between the divine and the mundane. Her journey with her Beloved, in this mystic land, is an eternal testament to love, longing, and profound wisdom.

Amidst the vast and profound canvas of creation, a focus sharpens on His gaze, resonant with profound wisdom and understanding. These eyes, shimmering with the depth of celestial knowledge, behold the world, assessing and shaping it with care. It is reminiscent of that divine moment when God beheld His work and saw its innate goodness.

The comparison of His eyes to doves by watercourses paints an evocative image. Water, reflective in nature, shows a clear and polished image of one's own visage when peered upon. Just as the water holds a mirror to one's physical countenance, so too does the universe reflect the grandeur of the Divine. The cosmos, in its myriad hues and shades, is akin to the rainbow in the cloud on a rainy day - a manifestation of divine splendor. Just as the colors of the rainbow are the refractions of sunlight through the clouds, all of existence is but the radiance of the Almighty, revealing itself in various facets. His observing eyes, peering upon this tapestry of existence, see a reflection of His own exalted wisdom and glory.

This allegory likens the entirety of the universes to the reflection seen in the waters, representing them as embodiments of His majestic glory and sublime wisdom. They are images of His grandeur, products of His exalted wisdom that originate from the primal source, the fountainhead of all things. His eyes, symbols of divine wisdom and understanding, are drawn to these nascent realities like doves overseeing their offspring.

Water here symbolizes the entirety of existence, a nod to the divine spirit that hovers over the waters during the genesis of the world. The watercourses, or the beginnings and hidden sources of these existences, are where His eyes of providence and discernment rest. These eyes are described as bathed in milk, evoking a transformation where chaos gives way to order, much like blood turns to milk, a process brought about by divine eyes that comprehend the profound depths of understanding.

Lastly, His eyes sit by a brimming pool, signifying the completion and fulfillment of creation. Everything in its entirety and perfection, reinforcing the sentiment when God observed all that He had made and found it exceedingly good. The narrative emphasizes that the divine orchestration of the cosmos is an ongoing process, one where His eyes, resplendent with wisdom, continuously oversee, shaping and refining the world with every passing moment.

In the serene gardens of creation, the harmony of nature resonates with an allegorical tale of divine communication and prophecy. Amidst this tranquility, he stands, the emblem of the divine utterance that shapes the universe.

His cheeks, the internal source of his words, gleam like beds of spices—fragrant and potent. These cheeks represent the overarching and foundational utterance, analogous to the moment of initial creation. Within this bed, multiple seeds of potential lie dormant, awaiting their moment to flourish, just as the universe once lay in potential, wrapped in the mysteries of creation.

In contrast, his lips, external and articulate, are likened to lilies, delicate and vibrant in their bloom. These lips epitomize the detailed utterances that brought forth the particularities of creation, day by day. Every word is a bloom, a manifestation of the intended design. As lilies bud and flower, so did the days of creation unfurl, each with its purpose and splendor.

From these lips, there is a dripping of flowing myrrh, symbolic of the life that springs forth. This myrrh, embodying the essence of life, signifies the culmination of creation with the emergence of flora and fauna, each according to its kind. As the essence seeps from his lips, it serves as a reminder that every whisper, every proclamation, plays a part in the entirety of existence.

In this harmonious environment, the interplay between his cheeks and lips reveals a profound wisdom, a reflection on the nature of creation and prophecy. The journey from the internal realm of potential to the external realization of that potential mirrors the divine process, whereby the universe transitioned from abstract thought to tangible reality. Every element, from the spices to the lilies, and the flowing myrrh, serves as an allegorical lesson on the power of the divine word and the unfolding of prophecy.

In the resplendent garden, the sun bathes the world in gold, and every detail reflects the meticulous design of the Divine. Amidst the lush scenery, her gaze settles upon Him, the representation of the cosmos and its divine guidance.

His hands, she notices with awe, gleam like rods of gold. These are not just any hands. They are the very hands that sustain the fabric of existence, guiding it along predetermined orbits and cycles. They function like the purest golden cylinders, intricately designed, constantly in motion, governing the realities of the world. Through these hands, the ethereal spheres in the heavens above revolve, driven by celestial beings that gleam like beryl. Some of these hands guide the spheres through forces unknown to mortal eyes, while others are led by the angels, His faithful servants, who carry out His will with undying devotion.

Shifting her attention, she marvels at His core, described as a tablet of ivory. It symbolizes His revealed will through the Torah—a gift of compassion and mercy, given out of His boundless love for His creations. Just as pieces of ivory can be bound to form a single entity, so too does the Torah weave words, verses, and chapters into a unified tapestry of divine wisdom. Hidden within this ivory tablet is a deep, concealed wisdom, much like the inner mysteries of the ivory itself.

This tablet, despite its dense composition, is adorned with sapphires. To her, sapphires represent the clarity through which the deeper meanings of the Torah can be perceived. Just as one can glimpse distant scenes through the transparent depth of a sapphire, so too can the secrets and wonders of the Torah be discerned through its stories and narratives.

Feeling a profound connection to this divinely orchestrated world, she realizes that every detail—every leaf, every ray of light—holds profound meaning and purpose. The garden, the universe, and the beings within it are all part of a divine song, harmoniously orchestrated by Him.

In the heart of a vast, pristine forest, his presence is as commanding as the towering trees that blanket the land. Majestic, with an air of regal composure, he stands tall and unwavering.

His legs, the foundation of his being, are reminiscent of sturdy marble pillars, each finely crafted and grounded, demonstrating both strength and refinement. These pillars of marble represent the six endpoints of the tangible world, rooted and upheld by the brilliance of fine gold. This golden base signifies the divine support that surrounds and fills him, embodying the watchful guidance from above. This radiant golden support extends from his crown, encompassing him down to his very foundation, reminiscent of the interconnectedness of the world, where the divine essence touches every facet of creation.

Amidst the vastness, one cannot help but be reminded of the grandeur of Lebanon, a land of countless thriving plants, an ecosystem teeming with diverse life. In much the same way, he is a source for countless entities, both celestial and terrestrial, providing sustenance and life to them all. His role as a foundation for such varied life reflects his importance and centrality in this spiritual tapestry.

Highlighting his capability, wisdom, and unyielding will, he is likened to the tallest cedar among the trees of Lebanon. The cedar, standing tall and undeterred amidst its peers, symbolizes his unmatched strength and prowess among his legions.

As the narrative unfolds, one is left with an image of a figure both grounded in his role in the tangible world, yet deeply interconnected with the divine. The tapestry of his existence is woven with threads of strength, guidance, and purpose, painting a picture of profound harmony and purpose.

In the tranquil streets of Jerusalem, the gentle buzz of chatter fills the air as the maidens gather, their eyes drawn to a particular woman who seems lost in thought. Her voice carries a note of longing as she speaks.

His mouth is delicious, and all of him is delightful. Such is my beloved, such is my darling, O maidens of Jerusalem! she exclaims, casting her gaze to the distance. Every word that flows from his lips carries with it the taste of wisdom, inviting all who listen to savor the depths of knowledge. Such is the way one discerns true wisdom, not just through the ears but also by feeling its essence on the palate, much like discerning fine foods.

The maidens, sensing the profound connection she holds, lean in closer. Every aspect of his being is desired and cherished by those who truly know him. For his will is solely bent on kindness and goodness. Not just for the beauty that he presents to the world but for the actions that define him. Her love for him deepens each time she recognizes his virtues, his wisdom, and his wholeness. He is also her darling, for they share a spiritual essence, a fragment of divinity that binds them together. Like two souls, one celestial and the other earthly, reflecting the qualities of the Divine.

For a moment, a hush falls over the gathering, the weight of her words sinking in. The celestial soul, akin to King Solomon's spirit, once felt the profound connection with the Divine, hearing His holy words throughout Solomon's life. But as all things, this bond too had its seasons, and there came a time when the prophetic connection grew distant until Solomon's final days.

A gentle sigh escapes her lips as she concludes. With this, the fourth song of their tale is complete. The maidens, profoundly moved, continue their day, but with hearts touched by a story that speaks of love, wisdom, and the intricate dance of the soul with the Divine.

SONG OF SONGS: CHAPTER FOUR (Song Three, cont.)

Like a locked garden, the heart safeguards its mysteries, waiting for the true key to unveil its blossoms. There, secrets bloom and whispers grow, only to be revealed to those who truly know. * Inspired by the rich spiritual symbolism of the commentary of Malbim.

by Rabbi Boruch Merkur

In the aftermath of her journey through guarded chambers and celestial realms, the woman finds herself in a new space—a place that feels like an intimate sanctuary. Here, her Beloved gazes at her with awe and admiration, as though seeing her for the first time yet knowing her for an eternity.

Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats leaping down the slopes of Gilead.

Her eyes, the windows to her intellectual soul, are compared to doves. They are like two kinds of perception: one which gazes upon the divine truths in the expansive cosmos, and the other which contemplates the godliness immanent in her innermost world. These eyes are veiled, restricted by the limitations of corporeal existence. Yet, even behind this veil, they manage to discern the divine, to recognize and seek her Beloved.

And what of her hair? Those numerous strands symbolize her countless insights and intellectual attainments. They are likened to goats cascading down a mountain—each unique yet part of a whole, each contributing to the sum total of her wisdom. These strands of insight draw from her inner intellectual essence and manifest externally, just like hair grows from within the body to the outside. Here, the mountain of Gilead is not just a geographical location but signifies higher realms of understanding, the foundational elements of the cosmos. Her thoughts and insights tumble from these celestial heights, rich and variegated like a flock of goats, each distinct but all part of the magnificent whole.

The image of her hair and eyes not only praises her beauty but reveals the depths of her intellectual and spiritual faculties. Her Beloved recognizes these qualities; he appreciates the layers of her existence, both the physical and the metaphysical. This is not mere flattery or hollow admiration but a profound understanding of who she is and what she represents.

In this intimate setting, they are not just lovers but also divine complements, mirroring each other’s complexities and potentials. He beholds her, and in that gaze, there is the epitome of divine love, a love steeped in respect, understanding, and a sense of shared destiny.

Here, their love story is not just of two individuals but also of two worlds, the human and the divine, the immanent and the transcendent. Their unity echoes the harmony that exists within the universe, reflecting a cosmic love story written before time itself began.

In the luminous chamber where wisdom and love reside, her teeth become the focal point of admiration. "Your teeth," he begins, "are like a flock of cleanly shorn sheep, emerging pure from their bath. Each one is perfectly matched, not one is out of place."

Her teeth here are not merely a feature of physical beauty; they are a gateway to something far more profound. Imagine teeth as the corporeal expression that encases and reveals the soul. In this world of the flesh and bone, teeth symbolize the nuanced manifestation of intellect, meticulously aligned in precise judgments and interconnections. The thirty-two pathways of wisdom are like the teeth that grow—sixteen on the upper jaw, and sixteen on the lower—each ascending over the other in a deliberate order.

Picture a flock of sheep that has been washed, their wool free from any blemish, just as these pathways of wisdom are untouched by material impurities. Their uniform whiteness suggests that they are not stained by experiences or earthly desires. Instead, the distinction between them comes from the intellect itself, partitioned into these pathways by its inherent nature.

All these pathways are like twin sisters, with no barren among them. In other words, every thought and intellectual conception will bear fruit according to its own inherent laws, flawless and vivacious. These are not merely teeth or even pathways of wisdom but the foundational principles that give rise to living ideas. Their purity and uniformity are akin to the flock of cleanly shorn sheep—each unique yet perfectly formed, each contributing to a greater, divine purpose.

In this singular moment, the wisdom she embodies and the love he emanates harmonize into a melody, each note resonating on a pathway of its own, yet all contributing to an ethereal symphony. This is a place where intellect and love, soul and flesh, become a seamless, impenetrable union. It's a union that transcends earthly limitations, much like the divine wisdom that inspires these pathways.

And so, they stand in awe of each other, and of the wondrous cosmos mirrored in their union, recognizing that they are but reflections of far vaster, purer realms. Yet, it is precisely in this world, amid its complexity and imperfection, that their love and wisdom find their truest expression. Each glance they share, each word they utter, is a testament to the ineffable wisdom that guides them—wisdom incarnate in human form, yet touching upon the divine.

Amidst the palace of wisdom and prophecy, where the air vibrates with concealed knowledge, She continues her dialogues with Her Beloved. Her words are as fine as a scarlet thread, through which beads of individual ideas and insights are strung. Her utterances stitch together scattered pearls of thought, creating an unbroken strand of eloquence. There is no mere chatter here; Her discourse soars in sanctity, steeped in the divine intellect of Torah, prophecy, and sacred spirit.

Your speech, My Love, is as elegant as that scarlet thread that connects isolated gems into a unified masterpiece, He praises her. "Just as one speaks and reveals the Torah and the whisperings of prophecy, so too do your words construct a transcendent harmony."

In response, She considers Her own essence and its expression through the language of ideas. In Her introspection, She discerns Her innate complexity. Her core being is likened to the inner chamber of a pomegranate, brimming with 613 seeds—each a divine, intellectual illumination. This ungraspable essence within Her, which holds ineffable divinities of wisdom, is called "your inner sanctum." Though it occupies no physical space, it is as replete as the seeds within the pomegranate.

Inside you, My Love, is an inscrutable domain, She contemplates silently. "It seems empty, like a vessel yet to be filled, but in reality, it is teeming with spiritual and intellectual energies. It is like a pomegranate bursting with countless seeds of wisdom and enlightenment."

However, this inmost essence, brimming with latent spiritual intensity, is "concealed behind your veil," for the nature of the soul in its deepest quintessence is inaccessible to human understanding. We only recognize it through its manifest connection to the body—through speech, deed, and its intricate interplay with corporeal existence.

As they delve further into this reciprocal revelation, both understand that the veils of obscurity are being lifted one by one, not just to divulge hidden aspects of their love but to reveal the inexhaustible layers of wisdom and prophecy that their union symbolizes. Their words, their silences, and their very being become an unfolding prophecy of divine love.

The corridors of her mind, the epicenter of her soul, have been carefully described, and now we shift our gaze lower, descending to the area where her vitality emanates. The neck acts as a curtain, a dividing line between the cranium and the body. Here, her soul finds its voice, a commanding sound that orchestrates the symphony of her life force and its faculties.

Imagine her neck as the Tower of David, fortified with ramparts. This is no ordinary tower; it is built to house warriors, guardians equipped with the sharpest of arrows, ever prepared for battle at the gate. This is where the shields hang—each one a testament to valor, a thousand of them, each etched with the stories of heroes. It is through this strategic stronghold, symbolized by the neck, that she governs, that she quells her inner foes.

Through this narrow pass, she steers the energies of her being, keeping them aligned under the command of her higher intellect, residing in the cranium above. If you could see this internal realm, you'd note that the neck stands as the ultimate commander, shouting decrees that ripple through her vitality, urging submission to the wisdom that is her true north. Alongside this tower are an array of shields, representing various faculties—those that set her on the right path and those that perfect and complete her. Together they forge a formidable defense, maintaining the laws of her inner world, reflecting the harmonious balance of power.

In this way, she exercises dominion over her life force and its faculties, commanding them with the authority of wisdom, like a wise yet impoverished man who saved a city with his intellect. Through her neck, the seat of this wisdom, she summons the forces that can rise against the base instincts seeking to overthrow her inner city. The shields are her strategies, her knowledge, and her understanding, collectively assembled to guide her through the intricacies of life’s challenges and prophecies yet to unfold. Thus, each part of her—both in form and function—emulates a realm rich with meaning, grounded in a reality far more profound than the eye can see.

Here, the Tower of David, her neck, becomes not just a bodily feature but a fortress of wisdom, an amphitheater for her inner dialogue, and a governing body that manifests her destiny.

In a meadow serene, filled with the fragrance of shoshanim—lilies—they find themselves. Here, thoughts are reflective, unmarred by the complexities of life. The air, redolent with the scent of tender petals, subtly announces the spiritual essence of their unity.

Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle, he remarks, his gaze meeting hers.

In his words, she perceives deep, multi-layered wisdom. He is not merely speaking of her physical form; he alludes to the faculties of desire and anger, those powerful but contrasting elements within her soul. These faculties are likened to siblings—different, yet inseparable, born from the same source. They are primal forces that have the power to either sustain or break her, shaping her impulses and intentions.

They graze among the lilies, he continues.

His words unveil a new spiritual horizon. In this sacred space, her faculties of desire and anger are redirected towards loftier aims. No longer tangled in the transient cravings and resistances of the material world, they find nourishment in the eternal. They are like fawns grazing among lilies, fed by what is good and true. Through this spiritual nourishment, her faculties become aligned with her soul's deepest yearnings for Divine service and mitzvot.

He recognizes this inner harmony, her faculties unified and elevated in their pursuit of the spiritual. The meadow around them, adorned with lilies and rich with fragrance, becomes an embodiment of their transcendent unity. Her very soul, in its deepest recesses, finds its truest expression here.

Here among the lilies, she murmurs, "we encounter the essence of our souls."

In this harmonious instant, eyes locked, they grasp the whispered prophecies that fill the air. The future, a masterpiece of Divine intent, is woven into their very beings. They understand the heavenly force steering their lives, channeling even their basest instincts towards a celestial destination.

United, they stand in the meadow—her faculties harmonized and elevated, his devotion enveloping her like a mist. The scene is painted with the most exquisite strokes of the Creator's brush, each realizing that this spiritual unity foretells a life dedicated to the soul's elevation. A life that will unfold in the sweetest pastures among the eternal lilies.

In the tranquil meadow, where their faculties had been harmonized and elevated, he turns to her and says, "Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, I will go to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense."

His words suggest more than just a shift in physical location; they contain layers of allegorical wisdom. The day that is to "break" symbolizes the time when material pursuits once again demand attention. The fleeing shadows represent the transient nature of spiritual highs, moments when all seems in perfect harmony but cannot last in the face of worldly challenges. Even so, he assures her, their connection will not wane during these demanding times.

I will go to the mountain of myrrh, he declares.

The mountain of myrrh symbolizes the most refined elements of the soul, represented by the scent of myrrh—an aromatic resin that comes from the lifeblood of the tree. Unlike previous moments, where their unity was maintained through abstract contemplation and prophetic insight, he now seeks to sustain their connection through tangible means.

And to the hill of frankincense, he adds.

The hill, smaller than the mountain, signifies the subtle fragrances that come from the plant world. This denotes the material actions—rituals, sacrifices, offerings—that may seem less significant but are essential to sustaining their spiritual connection. Just as a mountain rests upon a hill, the soul's loftier elements are supported by the foundational, material aspects of life.

Their eyes meet, as if peering into the future. She senses the weight of his words, understanding that they will continue to pursue their lofty spiritual goals even amid the earthliness of day-to-day existence. He, in turn, understands that their connection will remain steadfast, guided by the subtle prophetic undercurrents that have always woven their fates together.

In this way, he assures her that even when "the day breaks and the shadows flee"—when worldly concerns threaten to distract them from their spiritual journey—he will still be tethered to her, drawing nourishment from both the mountain of myrrh and the hill of frankincense. And she, in her own silent acknowledgment, knows that the mountain and the hill will serve as the backdrop against which their souls will continue to strive for unity, never losing sight of their celestial destination.

The garden bursts with life; a sanctuary where all elements have united in holiness. The Divine Presence itself seems to dwell here, suffused in every leaf, vine, and being. Her Beloved looks at her, the soul incarnate in this realm, his eyes filled with an infinite tenderness.

Every part of you is beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you, he declares.

His words are not mere flattery; they are a recognition of a momentous shift. For a long time, her spiritual essence had been entangled with the animal and plant souls, a complex weave that cast a certain imperfection upon her. These disparate elements had created a barrier, separating her from attaining her rightful role, from serving the Ultimate in pure devotion and asceticism.

But now, as if by some divine alchemy, these very elements—the animate and the vegetative—have themselves been sanctified. They no longer mark her as flawed; instead, they contribute to her beauty, aligning themselves in service to the Divine. Her being resonates as a priestess serving in the most sacred of sanctuaries.

The animalistic and vegetative souls within her are not just assimilated; they are transformed. They no longer stand as obstacles but have become constituents of her beauty and purity. It is as though a veil has been lifted, and she now stands in her entirety—each facet reflecting sanctity, each element in harmonious unity.

Thus, her Beloved’s words are not just an expression of love but a testament to a higher reality. "Every part of you is beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you," he reiterates, emphasizing that all is now holy. His words resonate with a prophetic undertone, heralding an era where divisions fade, and unity reigns—each soul a microcosm of the divine sanctuary.

She looks back at him, her eyes meeting his. And in that gaze, they both understand: she has emerged into a fuller version of herself, embracing the multiplicity within her as part of her newfound sanctity. Her love for him and her commitment to the Divine are inseparable, just as every part of her now contributes to a unified, flawless whole.

With gentle strides, the atmosphere shifted. A change was palpable. The words echoed between the mountains, a call tender and commanding. “Come with me from Lebanon, my bride; come with me from Lebanon.” It wasn’t just an invitation but a plea, an urging to journey together.

The majestic peaks of Amana, Senir, and Hermon stood tall, their grandeur known throughout the lands. They were places of reverence, where the roars of lions echoed and where leopards prowled in the heights. These mountains had tales to tell, stories of bravery, stories where the ferocity of lions was revered and the stealth of leopards was both feared and admired.

In this backdrop, he looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of passion and prophetic foresight. “Come,” he beckoned, no longer referring to her as a mere companion, but as his ‘bride’. The commitment was evident. Their destinies intertwined. He offered her not just love but an eternal bond, one that was forged with faith and trust. His call was a promise to elevate her from the chambers she might have been confined to, bringing her into the vast open, where the spirit roamed free, where they could be truly united.

Her journey wasn't just physical but spiritual. It was about transcending barriers, about reaching a place of purity, a sanctuary, symbolized by Lebanon, known for its white, snowy peaks – a place that purifies the darkest of souls. The Temple, a spiritual epicenter, beckoned her. There, the soul would be free, unhindered, where it would resonate with divine revelations.

He reminded her of the lessons of faith she’d learned at the pinnacle of Amana and of the wonders they'd witnessed together in the heights of Senir and Hermon. In these sacred places, divine manifestations were more than mere tales. They were experiences, palpable and profound, defying the ordinary. The continuous miracles in the Temple, the divine presence, were all manifesting not just as routine blessings but as wondrous marvels, independent of mere merit.

And from the lairs of lions, she would journey, a place where courage ruled, where the lion's might was a symbol of power and strength. It was a call to rise, to ascend spiritually, to embrace her destiny, and to join him in a union that transcended the mundane, reaching into the realms of the divine.

In the lush surroundings of a sacred grove, where time seemed to stand still, the male protagonist, reflecting the voice of the people of Israel, paused to address the Divine Presence, the Shechinah.

Your gaze, he began with a fervent intensity, "even if it is but a fleeting glance from just one of your eyes, pulls me close to you. Even when you direct the attention of your other eye towards the chambers of Solomon and the daughters of Zion who stand vigilant, I remain hopelessly enchanted by that singular glance."

He continued, expressing the depth of their connection, "Until now, our bond was formed through intellectual comprehension, a union of the mind. Now, our connection has evolved, transforming into an emotional bond, an awakening of the soul through heartfelt devotion."

The protagonist described the previous stages of their relationship, "Our understanding required two perspectives, two eyes. One was an intellectual vision of the divine presence in the grand scheme of things, the universal reality. The other was a deeper understanding of the divine within the soul, our individual experiences."

But now, he said with growing passion, "your single glance suffices. No longer do I need to delve into the complexities of the universe and its governance. A simple look into the soul's essence, to understand its unique world, to harmonize its energies and offer it up as a tribute to the King of Glory, is enough."

And it's enough, he concluded, "to adhere to the basic teachings of practical wisdom, focusing on reverence and service, without delving deep into theoretical knowledge."

In the embrace of a lush and tranquil garden, the woman, feeling the profound connection she's forged with her Beloved, marvels at the beauty and depth of her own feelings towards Him. With eyes shimmering with a mix of wonder and realization, she softly says, "How delightful is your love, my brother, my groom! More intoxicating than wine, and the scent of your fragrances surpasses all spices."

It's clear that her bond with her Beloved has undergone a transformation. Previously, her relationship was anchored by a prophetic understanding, where the Divine's love flowed downwards to her. But now, through her dedication and service in the sacred space of the Temple, her soul's ardor originates from within her, climbing upwards. This love, powered by the very depths of her being, isn't just about receiving; it's an active, passionate yearning that she offers. It's this profound change that prompts her to address her Divine counterpart as "brother," symbolizing an equal footing in love and devotion.

She further elaborates on the incomparable nature of her love. If one were to consider wine - the intoxicating and spirited substance known to humans - her love for the Divine far surpasses any earthly thrill it might provide. In essence, her passionate affection for her Beloved, driven by the spiritual essence within, is far more powerful and uplifting than any temporal elation brought about by wine.

She then delves deeper, comparing her newly realized feelings to fragrances. While scents often allude to intellectual insights, she claims that the fragrance or understanding she achieves through her passionate love and dedication to the Divine surpasses any intellectual attainment. The essence she extracts, through her love for the Divine, is the knowledge of the Divine spirit itself, sticking to those who are immersed in His love. This understanding, drawn from the depths of her passionate love, is far superior to any intellectual revelations.

In this verdant sanctuary, she's bared her soul, revealing the transformation of her relationship with her Divine partner, emphasizing that genuine love, rooted in understanding and spiritual devotion, has an unparalleled depth and purity.

In a serene meadow surrounded by the majestic peaks of Lebanon, the air is thick with anticipation. The lovers, whose affection for each other is evident, inch closer. Their love, a mirror of their souls, is a palpable force between them. She marvels at the beauty of his words, which fall from his lips like droplets of the purest honey.

Your lips, she whispers, drawing him nearer, "they drip with sweetness, like honey. The words you speak are as nourishing as milk, a testament to the purity of your thoughts."

He understands the depth of her words. Their bond isn't just physical but deeply spiritual. Their union signifies the meeting of the soul with the Divine, a connection forged in thought, speech, and deed. Just as honey is made from the essence of flowers and milk from the purest blood of living beings, their relationship is a transformation of their individual souls into something pure and harmonious.

The profundity of their bond isn't merely a tale of two souls intertwining. It's the story of the human soul's yearning to connect with the Divine. The sweetness of his speech, the honey, represents the Torah's teachings, while the milk under his tongue symbolizes the depth of prayer. These are the sustenance for the speaking soul, elevating the physical and the living to a higher realm.

But beyond words and thoughts, their actions carry a fragrance, reminiscent of the sacrifices offered in the temple of old, a scent that seeks to bridge the physical with the divine, linking the earthly with the heavenly.

Their love story, though intimate, is an allegory. A dance of souls, where every gesture and every word is an act of devotion, an offering, elevating them closer to the Divine.

In a pristine garden, untouched and unclaimed, the blossoms bloom in innocent splendor. This garden, virginal in its purity, stands as a testament to the maiden's unblemished soul. She is likened to such an untouched realm, her spirituality and heart never swayed or tainted by foreign allurements. Her Beloved, recognizing this purity, sees her as this secluded garden, a sanctuary where no other has ventured. The streams within it approach a sealed spring, the very heart of her innocence. This core, the very source of her being, remains preserved, indicating her unwavering commitment and dedication to her divine path.

Observing her purity, her Beloved sees her as this enclosed garden, a place where no outsider has ever set foot. The streams within it approach a sealed spring, indicating the depths of her innermost feelings and connection to the divine. This spring, the very source of her soul, remains sealed, implying that no foreign thoughts or actions have ever come close to it. Her essence is sealed with the mark of divinity and holiness, reminiscent of her sanctified origins. In this ethereal setting, the profound connection and mutual understanding between the maiden and her Beloved grows, each finding solace and meaning in the other's presence.

In the tranquil garden, sheltered by towering walls, the vivid imagery of a verdant orchard unveils. Amidst the foliage, clusters of pomegranates thrive, their ruby-red seeds hidden within. They stand as silent symbols of the myriad of commandments, each seed representing one of the 613 mitzvot, a divine sustenance nourishing the soul. Alongside these treasured fruits, other delightful produce grows, each with its unique allure and significance.

Yet, it's not just the visual beauty or the taste that captivates; the aromatic allure is equally enchanting. Among the trees and bushes, fragrant spices burst forth, their scents mingling in the gentle breezes. Saffron and spikenard, their aromatic notes wafting, are reminiscent of the ten spiritual ingredients that once made up the sacred incense in the temple. These scents serve not merely to delight but to elevate, each aroma a conduit to a higher realm, drawing the soul closer to the Divine.

Within this lush garden, both taste and scent coalesce. The nourishment provided by the pomegranates and other fruits represents the physical act of devotion, while the fragrant spices symbolize the sublime understanding of the Divine. Here, in this enclosed space, the harmony of the physical and spiritual, the tangible and intangible, come together, creating an environment where prophecy might bloom and where the bond between the Divine and the mortal soul is nurtured.

As she walks amidst this splendor, she feels an overwhelming sense of connection, not only to the wonders around her but to her Beloved, the force behind all creation. Each step, each breath, is a testament to the intricate dance of life and faith, where every element, from the humblest seed to the most fragrant spice, tells a tale of love, commitment, and divine providence.

In a lush garden, drenched with the morning dew, the aroma of nard and saffron wafted gently. The fragrant canes and cinnamon mixed harmoniously with all the trees exuding frankincense. Myrrh and aloes were embedded amongst the harmony of fragrances, alongside every chief spice.

This garden was not just an ordinary garden; it was a metaphorical sanctuary of soul and spirit. Its beauty and aroma represented a collection of virtues and qualities that one would yearn for. The garden's elements spoke not just of nature's beauty, but of divine attributes and virtues.

The trees bearing frankincense were tall and majestic, their barks rich and their leaves shimmering in the golden sunlight. They were more than just trees; they were symbols of righteousness, purity, and spiritual elevation.

As she walked through this enchanting sanctuary, the fragrances acted as guides, leading her deeper into a realm of contemplation. The myrrh, with its resinous scent, hinted at the sacrifices one makes in the pursuit of divine wisdom, while the aloes provided a soothing, healing touch to the soul, reminding her of the rewards of spiritual resilience.

Every spice and fragrance in this garden held a message, a lesson, a guiding principle. They spoke of the virtues she had cultivated within herself, and the path she had treaded to reach this place of inner tranquility and divine connection.

This place, it seemed, was a reflection of her inner world, a mirror of her soul's journey. The spices and fragrances, with their multifaceted scents, told tales of her experiences, challenges, and victories. They were her memories, her lessons, her guiding lights.

And as she continued her journey, the garden around her seemed to evolve, reflecting her ever-deepening connection to the divine, her ever-growing understanding of her own soul and the mysteries of the universe.

In a verdant garden, where every imaginable fruit bloomed in splendor, there lay a spring. This wasn't just any spring, but a wellspring of living waters. The crystal-clear waters flowed directly from Lebanon, bringing with them an essence of purity and rejuvenation.

Reflecting upon the grandeur of this garden, the allegory emerges, signifying the Torah and the commandments granted by the garden's owner to its guardians. Beyond the tangible beauty of the garden itself, the spring that quenches its thirst holds a profound significance. The spring embodies the very soul's essence and its inherent sanctity. It is like a garden's fountain, with waters that emerge spontaneously, providing life and sustenance to all that it touches.

Yet, it's not merely a fountain. The spring is also a well from which living waters are drawn. These waters trickle down from the heights of Lebanon, representing a divine, intellectual spirit imbued with wisdom, knowledge, and the breath of the Divine. Through contemplation, devotion, and purification, one can draw from these eternal waters of understanding, granting bodies a taste of everlasting life sourced from the sacred wellspring that never deceives in its flow.

And from where do these waters originate? They cascade from the lofty Lebanon, for their source is the sanctuary, the dwelling of spirits and souls. The garden, in all its lushness and beauty, is but a reflection of the profound spiritual truths and wisdom that nourish it, with the spring at its heart, channeling divine energies into the world.

In a serene garden, the air stands still, waiting. The maiden calls out, yearning for the winds to stir and breathe life into the garden. "Awaken, O northern wind," she implores, "and come, O southern wind." She seeks the balance between the cold and calculated thoughts of the north and the warmth and passion of the south. In this garden of devotion, the balance between reason and love, both winds must blow to ensure a harmonious environment.

As the maiden's plea fills the atmosphere, the garden begins to respond. With the breezes, its fragrances start to waft around, a scent so intoxicating, a testament to the depth of the maiden's affections and the commitment of her soul. She hopes that these scents, a blend of her deepest thoughts and purest emotions, would draw her Beloved to the garden. The Beloved, a representation of the Divine, is what her soul truly seeks.

She anticipates his arrival, where he would partake in the fruits of the garden – the result of her efforts, her thoughts, her actions. Every fruit, a reflection of her devotion, symbolizing her offerings to the Divine. The concept isn't just of mere sustenance, but of a deeper spiritual nourishment. Each offering, like the sacrifices made by the righteous, is a way for her soul to connect and merge with her Beloved, aiming for a union that transcends the physical realm.

SONG OF SONGS: CHAPTER THREE (Song Three)

She was last seen in the guarded chamber of Solomon, a chamber fortified by sixty mighty warriors, trained in the art of war. Their swords ever-ready at their hips, and yet none drew them as she passed. What stayed their hands? Why didn't they stop her? * Inspired by the rich spiritual symbolism of the commentary of Malbim.

by Rabbi Boruch Merkur

In the stillness of night, upon her solitary bed, she begins to search for him—the One her soul loves. Restless and unfulfilled, she rises from her place, embarking on a quiet quest for her Divine Companion. It is not just a single night that finds her yearning but many, the hours stretching into a continuum of sacred yearning.

Here, in a chamber far removed from the Divine, she contemplates the absence that envelops her. She once experienced an earthly love but now understands that her true Shepherd eludes her, no matter how arduously she searches in the folds of the temporal world. It is not within the lavish chambers and amongst the intricacies of material success that she will find him.

Her eyes, once confined to the minutiae of worldly matters, now yearn to see beyond the horizon. She seeks something deeper, a connection that transcends the ephemeral satisfaction offered by her earthly surroundings. The distractions and allure of the material world have ceased to bring her comfort.

Thus, she ventures forth from the walled city, her own entrapments, and into the expansive wilderness. It is in this deserted place, far from the distractions and illusions that shroud her vision, that she yearns to reunite with her Shepherd. Here, in a realm that transcends matter, where the daughters of Jerusalem—the earthly impulses that once swayed her—can no longer keep her from her quest, she feels the renewed promise of finding him.

And it is within this wilderness that her Shepherd does indeed appear to her once again, manifesting with a love that is both divine and intimate. Even when forces seek to separate them, their connection remains unbreakable. Here, amidst the sand and sky, her soul is spread out, touching upon the Divine. The wilderness, often seen as a place of lack, becomes for her a sacred space brimming with potential, where the soul unfurls to meet its Maker.

She understands now that her material encumbrances, symbolized by the city, could not keep her Shepherd from her, nor could they quell her own spiritual yearnings. Her soul and her Shepherd find a home in each other, in a love that is both endless and eternal. Even if she has to search in the darkest hours, her journey is validated, for he is not a God confined to stone temples or ritualistic practices; he is the ever-present Companion of her soul.

As she stands in the wilderness, far removed from her former life, a transformation envelops her. In this new context, her previous attachments and distractions dissolve into irrelevance. Her eyes meet those of her Shepherd, and in that divine gaze, she finds all that she has been seeking: a love that is eternal, a connection that is unbreakable, and a wisdom that transcends all understanding.

With her yearning finally met, yet ever continuous, she understands that this is but another chapter in an ongoing narrative, a journey without end. She looks ahead, ready to discover what new revelations await them both, as their eternal love story unfolds. And so, she walks hand in hand with her Shepherd, into the expanse of the wilderness and beyond, infinitely searching and eternally found.

With a heavy sigh, she rises from her bed, driven by an insatiable yearning. In this allegory, her bed represents a comfortable state of physicality, a realm where the soul is ensconced in corporeal trappings. But she is no longer content to lie there; her quest is one for her Beloved, for something—someone—beyond the corporeal. So she wanders through the city.

The city, a confluence of myriad energies and forces, represents the complex interplay of her bodily faculties. It's a busy place, a collection of specialized homes for wisdom, understanding, and memory, alongside homes of passion, humility, and courage. Each energy and force has its own dedicated place, whether it emanates from the intellect seated in the brain, the vitality housed in the heart, or the growth and sustenance rooted in the liver.

She seeks him in the marketplaces and broad squares of the city, the public spaces where the energies come together to trade, to converse, to interact. These are the areas where faculties like seeing, hearing, and smelling congregate with emotional traits like pride, humility, and compassion. Here, too, physical needs like eating and drinking make their presence known. It's a bustling hub, a focal point of collective energies, yet he is not there.

And as she traverses these areas, the wisdom crystallizes: she won't find her Beloved through physical means alone. The breadth of her search through the energies and faculties of her body, as encompassing as they may be, is insufficient. Even if she engages with her more encompassing faculties, the collective energies that represent the marketplaces and squares, she cannot attain that prophetic grasp she yearns for. Not while she still remains within the city, within the material confines of her body.

For her quest is a spiritual one. To truly find him, she needs to transcend, to step outside these corporeal boundaries. She realizes, as she combs through every nook and cranny of her 'city', that her Beloved is not something she can grasp while tied to the material world. She must go beyond. Even though her search in the city proves fruitless, it's a revelation.

She sought him, but did not find him. Yet, in the very act of seeking, of venturing through the complexities of her own faculties and energies, she gains a new understanding. It is an understanding fraught with paradox: she must go beyond where she has looked, for her Beloved is not bound by place or faculty. She must transcend the city itself, to find what her soul truly seeks.

In a palpable shift, she finds herself at the outskirts of the city, where the guardians stand at the city gates. This isn't a mere landmark in the city, but a significant spiritual boundary. The city, a representation of her corporeal state and worldly concerns, has been transcended. Here, the guardians are not just sentinels, but symbolize the final limits of life itself—her final chance to either advance or retreat in her spiritual quest.

The moment is fraught with gravity, akin to standing on the very edge of consciousness. If she crosses this last frontier, she would step outside the city's confines and, metaphorically, transition beyond her present state of being. It's the existential choice between the comfort of the known and the transformative potential of the unknown.

With the guardians as her audience, she poses the question, pulsating through her like an existential heartbeat: "Have you seen the one my soul loves?"

She has already abandoned her community, distanced herself from the encompassing forces of the mundane, to embark upon this profound journey. It's a quest that has drawn her away from superficial distractions and closer to her core desire: to find her Beloved. Her question reflects a yearning so intense that it seems as though her soul is almost departing her earthly form, yearning for that celestial connection.

The guardians perceive her inquiry not as a casual question but as a profound search, resonating with her immense desire to find that which completes her soul. Their answer could either propel her into a transformative encounter with her Beloved or redirect her back into the city, back to a life of limited boundaries.

The stakes are high, but her query is straightforward, a distillation of her heart's deepest desire: "Have you seen the one my soul loves?" In her utterance, she embodies the very essence of human striving, that relentless pursuit of the profound, the meaningful, and the eternal.

Now, at the edge of her old world, she stands ready for whatever may come, her spirit humming with a mixture of hope, anticipation, and, most importantly, love.

Stepping just beyond the watchmen who symbolize the threshold between the earthly and the celestial, her heart fills with a sense of completion, like a prophecy fulfilled. There he is—her Beloved, the anchor of her soul.

She clasps his hand firmly, her grip symbolizing an unspoken vow: "I will not let go." Her resolve now crystallizes into a singular intention—she will bring him into the abode of her mother, into the intimate chamber of her upbringing. This time, their union will not be transient or elusive; it will be as steadfast as the mountains that encircle Jerusalem.

No longer are they confined to fleeting moments when her Beloved would withdraw to the heavens after brief episodes of Divine revelation. Now, the Shechinah has a constant dwelling among the people, manifesting as a Sanctuary, a permanent Home where the Divine and the earthly merge. The metaphysical has coalesced into the physical; the abstraction of their love has found a concrete expression.

With this newfound sanctuary, her body and her community have become the long-anticipated dwelling place for her Beloved. Her very being is transformed into a sanctum, where the Divine Presence will reside eternally. More specifically, her innermost chamber becomes the Holy of Holies, upon the wings of the Cherubim of her inner aspirations.

Guided by this profound realization, she walks forward, her Beloved's hand firmly in her own. No longer does she envision him as a transient guest; instead, he has become a permanent resident in her internal world, forever changing the landscape of her soul. With each step, they cross not merely the distance but also transcend the limitations that once separated them, entering a domain of eternal unity.

She leads him, step by careful step, into the sanctuary that her life has now become. Her most intimate spaces—represented as the house of her mother and the chamber of her upbringing—await their arrival, ready to host this eternal love. The wings of the Cherubim, the highest aspirations of her soul, spread wide to enshrine this union, creating a space where the Divine Presence can finally, fully, come to rest.

Emerging from the profound realization of their newfound unity, her soul still reverberating with the sanctuary's sacred silence, she finds herself amidst the daughters of Jerusalem—those symbolic guardians of the city's spiritual essence. They've been roused, as though awakened from their slumber, by the undercurrents of transformation that her union with her Beloved has instigated. Yet, she cautions them, her words soaked with the gravity of the revelation she's just experienced.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or by the hinds of the field, that you not stir up, nor awaken love until it pleases.

The charge is as much a plea as it is a command: a call for patience and discretion, a call to respect the delicate, almost fragile nature of Divine love. It's an urging to refrain from artificial or forced spiritual awakenings, to allow love to emerge in its own time, much like a tender bud blossoming at the first touch of spring.

She speaks with the authority of one who has herself crossed the threshold, who has ventured into the inner chambers and tasted the sweetness of a love that is both earthly and Divine. Her warning to the daughters of Jerusalem is also a reflection on her own journey, a journey that has led her to this pivotal moment where the transient becomes permanent, where the Divine finds a home among the physical.

She's well aware that this love, once roused prematurely, risks becoming a fleeting emotion, lacking in depth and resonance. It needs to be cultivated in the quiet, in the silent places of the soul, until it emerges in its fullness, robust and resilient, capable of withstanding the trials that life will inevitably bring.

The gazelles and hinds of the field she invokes symbolize the spontaneity and grace with which love ought to unfold—naturally, effortlessly, almost instinctually. To rush this process is to do a disservice to love's profound potential. Love should not be a captive, stirred by external forces; it should be a free spirit, roused only by an intrinsic readiness.

Thus, the daughters of Jerusalem stand hushed, their eager energies tempered by her solemn words. It is a moment of pause, a collective inhalation before the next chapter of this unfolding spiritual saga, a brief interlude in which love—in its most Divine form—gains the space it needs to flourish.

In a place where both wilderness and royalty converge, all eyes turn to behold a mysterious emergence. "Who is this ascending from the wilderness?" the onlookers wonder, struck by the spectacle before them. She ascends like pillars of smoke, exuding scents of myrrh and frankincense. The sight is so paradoxical that it becomes a marvel unto itself. She was last seen in the guarded chamber of Solomon, a chamber fortified by sixty mighty warriors, trained in the art of war. Their swords ever-ready at their hips, and yet none drew them as she passed. What stayed their hands? Why didn't they stop her?

Her exit from the guarded chamber into the wilderness is unlike any other; it defies the natural order. Her very presence feels like a whispered prophecy, an anomaly that escapes the tight net of the world's logic. The scent she carries, redolent of myrrh and frankincense, hints at something deeper. It's as if the very essence of her soul is mingling with these perfumes, embodying the highest virtues of life and vitality. This sacred aroma is not just physical; it's an emanation of her spiritual ascent. Each fragrance she exudes is an invisible thread woven into the very fabric of her being, hinting at both her origin and her destination.

Here, she challenges boundaries—defying the warriors, defying Solomon's chamber, and now, existing simultaneously in the harsh wilderness and in an aura of sanctified fragrances. She has undergone an inner alchemy; the course elements of her nature have been distilled into pure essence. Myrrh, evocative of life's vitality, and frankincense, resonant with spiritual growth, are not merely scents she wears; they define her. She is the wisdom of these fragrances, actualized.

Her being is a question posed to the cosmos, demanding an understanding of how such an enigmatic transformation is possible. And yet, the wisdom she carries doesn't come with an easy answer, as if to say the beauty of a mystery lies in the seeking, not just the finding.

The warriors are not the only ones struck with awe; even those who witness her ascent from the wilderness find themselves wrapped in the enigma she embodies. As they watch, the mystery deepens, but they intuit that her journey has far-reaching implications, a sign of something greater yet to come. Each step she takes seems like a fulfillment of an unwritten prophecy, a narrative that is both timeless and immediate, altering the world around her even as she remains unaltered—a living testament to a wisdom that is both eternal and ever new.

Behold, the bed of Solomon is surrounded by sixty mighty men, warriors of Israel.

In the garden of existence, where soul and body meet in an intimate embrace, there exists a fortress, a stronghold not easily breached. The bed of Solomon here is more than mere furniture; it is the architecture of the human body, the vessel that cradles the soul. Guarded by sixty mighty men, these are the elements that make up the framework of life, the pillars of flesh and bone that encase the eternal soul. They are the warriors, bound by the will to keep the soul secured, to prevent her departure from this earthly realm.

These sixty warriors are intricately fashioned components of the body—limbs, sinews, and organs—aligned in defensive formation around the soul. They are divided into outer and inner rings, each playing a role in the grand scheme of existence, each serving as guardian in this celestial theater. [In the mystical language of numbers, sixty is a formidable figure, echoing the divisions of time and space, the cycles of life and seasons. Each warrior, therefore, holds a numerical significance, mirroring cosmic rhythms.]

Yet these are not just any warriors; they are "warriors of Israel." Just as Israel wrestled and triumphed over the angelic, so too do these bodily guardians engage in a continuous contest with the soul, the breath of the Divine within. They whisper, "I will not let you go," forming an unbreakable bond that holds the soul captive, yet cherished, within the fortress of the body.

The soul, dwelling within these protective walls, recognizes the paradox. The warriors are both captors and saviors, limiting her reach yet enabling her existence within the mortal realm. In their rugged strength lies an untold prophecy—the promise of eternal union, a dance of spirit and matter, hinting at a time when separation will be no more, and the soul will find her ultimate rest.

Bound by this intricate, divine design, the soul and her guardians coexist in a state of delicate equilibrium. For now, they serve their purpose—keeping her tethered to her corporeal home, holding at bay the mystery that calls from beyond. Yet within this complex interplay pulses a yearning, a reach toward future unity when the soul will not be held, but will instead dwell in everlasting harmony with the universe, encased not in walls but enshrined in love.

Thus, the tale of the soul and her sixty guardians unfolds, a living allegory veiled in the language of flesh and spirit, mirroring the eternal quest for unity, the prophecy yet to be fully unveiled.

In the dusky, lamp-lit chamber, an almost palpable tension lingers. Here, spiritual guardians wield their swords with unparalleled skill, ready to engage in ceaseless battle. Their mission? To keep the soul entrapped within the realm of materialism. Trained in the art of combat, they are experts in tactics that weigh the soul down, making it difficult for her to ascend towards higher, spiritual planes. The swords they wield are more than just steel; they are the forces of habit and nature that lock the soul in place.

In this perpetual night of spiritual warfare, something exceptional happens. A profound fear descends upon the guardians. This fear isn't born of mortal dangers but reflects a momentous shift; the winds of prophecy blow through the chamber. Each guardian feels their sword grow heavier, pulling towards their hips. The weight of prophecy weakens them, disrupting their bodily structure. Their limbs become disjointed, their power dissipating, as if melted away by a divine furnace.

What could inspire such awe, unraveling the very fibers of their being? A soul is ascending, breaking free from their once unyielding grasp. Despite their natural and habitual might, the guardians find themselves powerless to prevent her rise.

Who is this, rising from the wilderness? they ask, astonished, unable to comprehend how she managed to escape their dominion. The answer lies in their own debility; their swords have been returned to their hips, their power nullified. Fear has overcome them, a prophetic awe that marks a change in the very architecture of the soul's prison.

And so, the Daughter of Heaven begins her ascent. Hindered no more by the guardians, she rises, stepping into a new dawn, a new potential for union with her Beloved. Yet, it is clear that the guardians' swords haven't vanished entirely. They remain at their hips, ready for another night, another battle. But for now, they are held at bay, their power confined to the very extremities of their being, allowing her a moment of freedom, a respite to seek her higher calling.

Her rise is not just an act but a proclamation, an event heralded by the winds of prophecy. It is as if the touch of the divine lingers at the very extremity, at the 'hip' of material existence, reminding the guardians—and all who bear witness—that the soul’s quest for divine union is a journey that, once begun, cannot easily be halted.

In the heart of a palace garden, a breathtaking structure stands—an ethereal carriage handcrafted by King Solomon himself. Made from the finest cedars of Lebanon, the palanquin seems almost otherworldly in its splendor. The air is dense with expectation; the scent of the cedar wood merges with the fragrance of the surrounding flowers, creating an aura of divine romance.

This royal carriage is designed for a single purpose: to hold and honor the Bride on her wedding day. King Solomon has set his intent; his companion is now to become his Queen, no longer hidden among the daughters of Jerusalem, but to be set apart, as special, as unique. Gone are the days when she was a mere lily among thorns. Now, she is destined to be enthroned beside her King.

Herein lies the secret: The daughters of Jerusalem, once guardians, become spectators. How did they permit her to emerge from their midst, journeying to be united with her Beloved? How could they stand aside as she left the wilderness and returned, forever changed, unhindered?

The answer: fear. The type of fear that disarms the soul and brings the material world to its knees. A fear that comes upon prophets when Divine Presence envelops them. The limbs of the corporeal world grow weak; the swords fall back into their sheaths, powerless. The very energy of the mundane is dissolved; it recoils, relegated to the fringes, unable to impede the daughter of the heavens as she parts from them.

As for the Appiryon, it's more than mere wood and craftsmanship. It is prophecy materialized, wisdom incarnate. Each cedar plank resonates with the timbre of destiny; each corner of this divine structure echoes the angles of the celestial throne. The King's intent is clear—he seeks unity, a bond transcending the earthly and the heavenly.

The carriage waits, anticipating the moment when it will bear the Bride to her Groom, leading her from a realm of confinement to a world teeming with endless possibilities. When the King ascends beside her, it will be the epitome of unity—a joining not just of man and woman, but of the Divine and the mortal, sealed in an eternal covenant.

The daughters of Jerusalem stand in awe. Their swords of material concerns have been sheathed, bound to their sides by an inexplicable awe. It's as if the very fabric of the material world has surrendered, making room for something infinitely greater, something holy. They can but watch, and in their watching, understand the profundity of what is occurring—this is no ordinary union; this is the sacred becoming manifest, fulfilling prophecies whispered since the dawn of time.

In a moment of enlightenment, King Solomon, grappling with the intricate fabric of his own soul and the Divine, realizes a profound truth. Once engulfed in the material pursuits, now he turns his gaze inward and upward. It's as if he constructs a palanquin for the soul, giving precedence to the Divine within him over the corporeal. His inner realm isn't to be a mere concubine to his worldly ambitions and pleasures anymore. It's to be enthroned like a queen, regal in her own palace, commanding the faculties of his being.

A carriage of wood from Lebanon. Here, Lebanon's wood symbolizes the strongest elements of the earthly domain, yet chosen to uplift the soul, making it a vehicle for the Divine. The palanquin isn't just an ornate carriage; it's a metaphysical construct, like the Temple he had built. Just as the Temple's chambers and rituals serve to elevate the physical to the Divine — through sacrifices that connect the life force of animals, plants, and minerals to spirituality — Solomon sees his life take on a similar sacred architecture.

He no longer regards his bodily desires as the rulers of his existence. The corporeal forces, symbolized by the daughters of Jerusalem, have been subdued, their focus shifted from self-serving pleasures to serving the higher queenly soul. They find themselves inevitably drawn towards the celestial queen, their energies marshaled by her wisdom and purpose.

In this newfound alignment, King Solomon's physical actions take on a heavenly hue, becoming acts of Divine service. It's as if every aspect of his being, every strand of his life, is now orchestrated by the soul in her royal palanquin, made of the very materiality that once threatened to consume him.

King Solomon, now harmonized in spirit and flesh, doesn't just enter his queenly soul's realm. He joins her in Divine matrimony, giving his worldly faculties a sanctified purpose. It's not just about rulership; it's a prophecy fulfilled, a living testament to the soul's capability to govern the corporeal, thereby creating a lineage blessed by the Divine.

No longer just a king with earthly confines, Solomon becomes a visionary, his soul and body in seamless unity, all elements raised, like the offerings in his Temple, into the realm of the eternal. It is as if his whole being becomes a Sanctuary, where heaven and earth kiss, a silent yet powerful testament to the prophecy that celebrates the union of the Divine and the human.

In the unfolding story, the palpable tension between the spiritual and the physical is temporarily dissolved. The setting shifts subtly, less a change of place than a change of focus. The perspective now zooms into the structure of the palanquin itself, elucidating its deeper essence.

"His pillars he made of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the seat of it purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem," the verse echoes, its words sung like a harmonious melody in a greater cosmic symphony.

Here, each element of the palanquin takes on a metaphorical tone. Silver pillars are not mere luxury or aesthetic flourish; they are the foundations of Divine wisdom, holding up the structure like age-old commandments. The golden bottom represents the purest, immutable principles that form the basis of the soul's journey. The purple seat, both royal and mystical, suggests a Divine presence, an inherent sanctity that elevates the palanquin from the worldly to the celestial.

But what truly radiates within this sacred chariot is a love, not indiscriminate but discerning. "Paved with love from the daughters of Jerusalem," the words reveal a deeper, abstracted love that is an amalgamation of all the virtues found in the daughters of the Holy City. It is as if the very essence of this love is forged from a divine fire—a prophetic zeal—that melts down all these virtues into a singular, potent emotion.

Her Beloved, the Eternal Companion, finds Himself bathed in this refined love. It is not for Him a mere feeling, but a transcendent force, more enduring than the ages, more radiant than the most precious jewels. It is as if His love for her—the Soul, the Divine Maiden—is equal to the love for all the virtuous daughters combined. The palanquin then is not just a vehicle but a sanctified space, a mobile Temple, designed not merely to carry but to elevate, to transform the corporeal into an offering worthy of the Most High.

And so, propelled by this profound love, the Eternal Companion and His cherished Soul continue on their spiritual odyssey, every moment a prophecy, every emotion a sacred utterance, and every setting—be it a garden or a palanquin—a space made holy by their sublime union.

As he gazes upon the structure, each part resonates with deeper meaning. Its pillars, he thinks, aren't mere columns of silver; they're a trinity reflecting the body's three domains—each a dwelling for a corresponding tier of the soul.

The foundation lies within the lower body, where natural and vegetative forces take root. Here, the organs enact a hidden labor, essential for the growth and sustenance of the body—each with its function, from absorption to digestion to expulsion.

Above this physicality, rises another realm located around the chest, the domain of the vital soul. This life-force pulses from the heart, circulating energy and animation throughout the body.

Crowning these levels is the seat of the intellectual soul, lodged within the skull. Here, in this dome of wisdom, deeper contemplations and understandings take shape, giving man a glimpse of eternity.

To him, the totality of this structure—a vehicle, a sanctuary—is not merely an assembly of parts. It is a coherent unity, fueled by an abstract love, an amalgamation of affection collected from the daughters of Jerusalem. Each domain, physical and metaphysical, serves its purpose, just as the different parts of the soul find their rightful places within this divine architecture.

He marvels at how this intricate structure serves as a dwelling for something far greater—the love that transcends mere individual admiration, a love that is an essence extracted from the collective beauty and grace. The architecture, he realizes, is but a vessel for this universal force of love.

The air shifts as we arrive at the Sanctuary, a place of profound sacredness. It's not a mere change in atmosphere, but a transformation of essence. Here, the inner realms of being find their home in the physical world.

Her Beloved, ever the wise architect, beholds the Sanctuary as a mirror to the soul—each chamber, each vessel, each implement corresponding to aspects of individual and collective existence. It's a spiritual diagram mapping out the celestial structure down to the earthly realm, all harmonized to provide an environment for a divine indwelling.

*"This is where they gather, where their souls become as one,"* He thinks, reflecting on the collective soul of Israel. It was this unification, this being "as one man," that made the people worthy to serve as a chariot for the Divine Presence. And it is here, in the Sanctuary, that this union is most palpable.

They stand, together yet individually complete, as if embodying the idea of unity in multiplicity. Each person is a world unto themselves, yet part of the larger, intricate body of Israel—a body shaped by prophecies, wisdom, and a singular sense of purpose.

In this sacred assembly, two kinds of souls stand out. The first is the intellectual soul, ennobled by natural wisdom, often referred to by sages as "Chayah," the living one. Though bright, its light pales before the second kind: a soul emanated from the divine throne itself—a soul of prophecy. These extraordinary souls, called "Yechidah," are rooted in the ultimate Unity. They elevate from the multitude, almost divine, ruling over deeds, seeing without eyes, hearing without ears, and performing wondrous acts that astonish the minds and hearts of all.

*"To the one who possesses Yechidah, the soul emanated from the World of Emanation, the path within the King’s chambers is revealed,"* Her Beloved contemplates. It’s a prophecy, a vision that uplifts, revealing the tremendous potential of human beings to transcend earthly limitations.

In the Sanctuary, everything has its place, each vessel and ritual in alignment with the higher worlds. And just as the human body serves as the garment for the soul, guiding its powers into action, so does the Sanctuary serve as the "chariot" for the collective soul of Israel. Each structure, every ceremony, has its celestial counterpart, and the physical actions performed here resonate in the higher realms.

It is in this way that each person's soul, like a droplet in a river, contributes to the divine flow, resonating in a dance of Unity that transcends both time and space. And so, in the presence of the Sanctuary, they stand as one—elevated, sanctified, and bound in a unity that reaches from the earth to the heavens, embodying the deepest wisdoms that shape the fabric of existence.

In the sanctuary's heart, amid golden walls and silken veils, her Beloved takes stock of his wondrous creation. Here, each aspect echoes a facet of their love, transcendent and corporeal. To the uninitiated, these may just seem like walls, columns, and veils. But to her Beloved, each element signifies a tier of the soul's journey.

The outer courtyard of the sanctuary, bound by silver pillars, is a realm of physical necessities. It is like the belly and its digestive system, converting food into energy and ash. There, the altar always burns, a spiritual sustenance akin to bread, and the waste is taken care of, almost mirroring the human body's intricate functions. It's not enveloped by wooden boards, indicating the lower nature of its safeguarding [since these organs are not as significant and are more earthly in their functions].

Beyond this initial partition lies the inner sanctum, embraced by golden boards. This area corresponds to the vital soul, safeguarding higher rituals. The incense altar in this space grants spiritual pleasure, much like the secondary digestion that takes place in the heart, which is entirely a matter of airy spirituality. The menorah's seven branches refer to the seven winds that fuel the spirit, breathing life into the soul.

Yet, the most hallowed space remains concealed behind a curtain of purple, hosting the Ark of Covenant. This space is a boundary encasing the intellectual soul; it houses the divine law and intellect. Above the Ark, cherubim stand, twin souls rooted in the Divine, united in an eternal embrace. There, her Beloved finds the fire of love, fed by the corporeal energies elevated to love for the Divine [and this is where the holy merges with the earthly].

The love between them, purified and ennobling, engulfs the maidens of Jerusalem, whose energies ascend, transmuted into Divine love. They now partake in the love between her Beloved and the exalted Shepherdess, and all will bow before her. Through her, they serve the King of Glory, who resides in this realm [This is why he is named Solomon, signifying the peace between the soul and its physical vessel, for it is here that the soul dominates, subjugating the desires and energies to its own enlightened rule].

Thus, within these divine partitions, her Beloved sees not mere ornamentation but the embodiment of their eternal love, at once corporeal, spiritual, and intellectual, a triad of union each guarding its respective treasure yet all interlinked in a profound understanding of love's multifaceted nature.

In the bustling streets of Zion, a chorus of curious eyes and whispering voices swell around her—her presence a magnet for the daughters of the Holy City. Yet her soul yearns for solitude, for that divine unity with her Beloved. She devises a way, a subtle strategy to send the daughters of Zion away.

Go forth, she urges, "and witness King Solomon in his glorious crown. See the ornament bestowed upon him by his mother on the day of his wedding, and on the day that fills his heart with joy."

The daughters of Zion, their intrigue ignited, disperse to witness the spectacle. Each step they take away from her amplifies her inner joy, as if every footfall echoes in the hallways of prophecy. In their absence, her heart finds its sanctuary, meeting her Beloved in that sacred realm where heaven and earth kiss.

King Solomon, she ponders, even in his grandeur, has found peace. Even the King’s darker inclinations, the instinctive forces, have been vanquished by divine love. In that crown, bestowed by his mother—representative of the very source from which material desires and worldly urges spring—he has found unity, not merely as a ruler, but as a soul in harmony with the Divine.

For her Beloved has also been crowned, not by the grandiosity of worldly ceremonies, but by the wisdom that accompanies divine love. It is a wisdom that fuels her service to the divine and keeps her connected with the holy spirit dwelling within.

In their departure, the daughters of Zion have unknowingly paved the way for her union with the Divine. They, too, are part of this mysterious choreography—stepping away so that she can step closer to her ultimate destiny. And so, as the daughters of Zion drift away, captivated by the majesty of King Solomon, she enters into her intimate communion with her Beloved, veiling herself not just from the world but also in the prophetic wisdom that is her birthright.

In this moment, it is as if every strand of wisdom has found its place in her soul, shimmering with both clarity and mystery. She recognizes the grand design, as it unfolds not just around her, but through her, a living testament to a love that transcends all boundaries—earthly and divine.