Breathing Inspiration

Persist in Truth

Everything only counts

amidst the big picture,

from G-d’s point-of-view,

as He looks down from Heaven,

upon mankind gone astray,

having lost our way

amongst the sideways and byways,

leading to dead ends in the labyrinth

of the convoluted lives

that we have created for ourselves.

—– —– —– —– —–

While all the world cries out for peace,

and the need to change the status quo,

the moors of society crumble, because

the central foundations can no longer hold.

—– —– —– —– —–

No news can be trusted, only overshadows

the divine truths already established,

that are diminished from the public arena,

like so many dissenters being cast

into the lion’s den on a continual basis.

—– —– —– —– —–

Rome had its gladiators to entertain,

and its crucifixions to admonish the populace;

today, the woke mob stirs up conflict,

in every arena of society, where

their aim is to cancel the voices

of their opposition, silencing

all who disagree with their tyranny;

yet, as a last recourse,

those who stand for truth,

for the sake of our conscience

must say no to the lies.

dVerse

Soul Renewal

Livin’ life without a net,

who’s to catch me if I fall,

except the One, that I met,

to Whom I’ve given my all.

Renewal of the soul,

at the beginning of the day,

quieting of the mind,

as the light fades away.

Nighttime brings its own song,

in sync with the rhythm of the heart,

reflects upon all that we long for,

dreaming of a new start.

Livin’ life without a net,

who’s to catch me if I fall,

except the One, that I met,

to Whom I’ve given my all.

Every year, the world’s tears flow

like rain from unfamiliar clouds,

until, at the first light of dawn,

we hear Your voice call us home.

Upon the wings of eagles we glide,

in time with the prophetic cue,

brought to the place where we will reside,

in our hearts, singing a new tune.

Livin’ life without a net,

who’s to catch us if we fall,

except the One, Whom we’ve met,

and given to Him our all.

As nations gather together for war,

we will rise above all the flames,

in search of the world no man can char,

the Kingdom that fell is risen again.

One vision to guide us

through the darkness of the land,

One truth to abide in,

as we perceive His guiding hand.

Livin’ life without a net,

who’s to catch us if we fall,

except the One, Who calls out,

I request of you, your all.

Pinnacle

Ancient dreams careen

when we view things unseen

to the unaided eye, existing

from the beginning of time,

as we now reckon the days.

Yet, we are always

searching for something new,

constantly gravitating towards

what is novel, yet transient,

as all earthly pleasures are.

Yet, beyond this road paved with glitter,

and littered with the empty wrappers

of fleeting moments, is a Way –

stamped with the approval of Heaven,

lit by the light shining down from Above.

If we are not yearning

for something that is of lasting value,

then everything we experience

will drift away into the ether,

and fall back to earth as rain,

the ever present pouring down

of heavenly tears.

Renewal on the Horizon

Somewhere,

amidst the broken-down dreams

of a nation bereft of its heritage and pride,

amongst the scattered ruins of a once thriving

society of angels and men, seeking harmony,

lies the spark within, the light of renewal

that will bring home the downtrodden,

who still carry faith in their hearts,

and walk with the strides of righteousness,

alongside the saints of olden times,

who have not forgotten their G-d above,

nor their moral responsibilities below

on an earth that teeters and totters,

reels and shakes from the revolution

of an immense proportion

that spins the globe into chaos.

In the distant future,

when the angels fly overhead,

we will be lifted into the air,

only to be resettled in Paradise.

dVerse prompt

Our Brethren

“There shall no evil come to thee: nor shall the scourge come near thy dwelling.” – Psalm 91:10

No longer driven this way and that,

because we are given the blessing of adaptability

in times of war, when all appears lost.

And, in times of peace as well,

in our homes, and when all alone,

to remember our brethren and kin,

when we have no one to tell

our troubles to except for G-d.

The memories of ashes, everywhere,

like dust in the currents of wind,

that shift across the ages.

Yet, renewal is at hand,

across this war-torn land,

when we turn to the One above,

Who can reconcile our lives to Himself,

and absolve our sins of indifference

to both G-d and mankind.

Tears Descend

The links of time

are found in the air,

amidst the whispering wind,

and the evanescent dreams

of the angels, echoing our prayers.

These threads of gossamer

are as fragile as the memories

of our ancestors, drifting in the ether,

until they are purified of the hues

of grey, that cloud the minds

of their relatives on the earth.

Spare us from the flames of Gehenna,

in this life and the afterlife, L-rd;

that we may not be inclined

to repeat the sins of our ancestors,

nor, fail to improve ourselves,

while we have the opportunity,

for the dead perform no mitzvoth;

rather, they are only subject

to the heavenly court,

for what can no longer be undone.

May the upper waters

refresh our tired souls,

like the tears of Heaven,

falling upon the penitent.

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dVerse prompt

Awaken to the Years

In the footsteps of my ancestors,

my way is paved in broken concrete,

made from stolen tombstones,

taken from Europe’s Jewish cemeteries,

as if a generation’s culture could be ground

into smithereens, hiding its very existence.

Yet, the heaven’s shed tears of mercy,

in order to water the earth with renewal.

Chassidic communities sprung up again,

some in Israel, some in America,

and some even in Ukraine.

Now, with the invasion of Russia,

again, the Ukrainian Jews have had to flee,

reminiscent of flight during the Shoah,

that some elderly survivors recalled,

from their harrowing youth.

What a joy to the soul,

and warmth to the heart,

to see them landing in Israel.

Lifted upon the wings of eagles,

and set down upon the ancient soil

of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

And my own kindred,

not even given the opportunity

to be mourned by loved ones,

thousands of miles across the Atlantic,

where my great grandfather Hirsch Wolf,

strived to raise a family, in a distant land,

with hues of grey, and sounds of cacophony

in the busy streets of Brooklyn.

His brothers’ families remained,

and still rest in the earth,

7 kilometers outside of Bolekhiv,

in the forest of Taniawa,

where a memorial plaque,

marks a mass grave.

Yet, like Moses,

who was not permitted to enter

the land promised to the Israelites,

they will greet the righteous

in the Promised Land

of Olam Haba.

earthweal prompt

Thoughts in Collision

Two patterns of thought, collide with each other;

the first is redefined by the second, in totale,

digesting, and absorbing its nutrients, until absolved

of its contradictions, ready to be transformed once more.

As this progressive alteration of the original continues,

the main themes remain, while the corollaries are transmuted,

reshaped for the sake of channeling theory into praxis.

—– —– —– —– —– —– —–

Thus, the Hegelian dynamic of the Spirit,

working via the dialectic, reshaping history,

was recalibrated by Marx as dialectical materialism,

a historical process stripped bare of any spiritual component.

When his worldview failed to replicate itself in Europe,

(although, it was successful at consuming both Russia and China),

the intellectuals who had swallowed the bitter pill, and found it sweet,

sought to reframe the overall design, making it more palatable to the West.

—– —– —– —– —– —– —– —–

By way of the machinations of the neoMarxists at the Frankfort School,

a monster was tamed, enough to appear acceptable

within the confines of its cultural makeover,

giving rise to the birth of cultural Marxism;

and its progeny branched out like fractals, within American society,

as each imitation of the whole, began to engulf adherents,

both idealogues, and what Lenin derogatively referred to as “useful idiots.”

—– —– —– —– —– —– —–

The amalgamation became so complete,

that today, the reborn pattern that appears to be whole,

can only be recognized as Marxism, by the sum of its parts,

when the eye of the beholder will steadfastly take the opportunity

to closely examine the varied dimensions of the renamed monstrosity,

that has crisscrossed across the land, weaving a complex tapestry

of interrelated forms of cultural transformation and moral decline,

conveniently packaged as liberating acts of social justice.

Hence, the proliferation of Wokism continues,

in the wake of its former manifestations.

dVerse prompt

Journey Home

We are pilgrims on this earth,

like our father, Abraham –

destined to wander, with a purpose,

only to be realized in Olam Haba.

While here,

amongst the thicket’s

tangle that ensnares the soul,

relief is at hand, before

the darkness takes its toll.

The muddied waters

will turn crystal clear,

and cloudy skies reveal the sun,

concealed behind a veil

of tears, washing gently down

from the face of G-d.

Joy, will pour forth

from the fountain of salvation,

at the heart of Israel –

as we make our way home

to the land of our forefathers,

where the Kingdom will shine

forth like 10,000 suns.

dVerse prompt

Seeking Him

Give thanks to His name,

despite everything that seems to be in disarray.

Proclaim His acts across the land,

and offer a helping hand,

to those in need.

Sing words of praise to Him,

even when things do not appear to be going well.

Play music in His honor,

and in the splendor of holiness,

worship Him.

Let your heart rejoice

in the provision of the L-RD,

for His grace abounds,

and the level of His mercy

cannot be found out.

Always search out the L-RD,

and seek His countenance,

a refuge in the storms of life,

a guide to all your challenges

along the way home.