Something Sublime is Needed

We are determined –

all of us who look to a brighter day –

to see things our way,

instead of submitting

to the King of the World,

Who will give us direction,

capture our attention,

and bring us to our destiny.

We, who strive to create a life,

based on a mix of love and strife,

wanting to change those around us,

by pointing the finger at others,

and blaming the institutions of society.

Yet, disregarding the divine blueprint

of our heritage as a people of faith,

tradition, and the words inscribed

on the two Tablets of Stone

given to Moses on Sinai.

We have lost our way,

as the world in turmoil sways

to and fro, in moral chaos,

while the best of us fret,

and regret what we have not yet done,

to correct ourselves, through tikkun hanefesh,

a rectification of the soul,

with so little time left.

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Hope Surfaces (revision)

When will I be free

from these shadows of the past?

When will I sing

of my freedom at last?

All that You have done for me,

is enthroned in my memory.

All that You are doing for your people,

will be enthroned for eternity.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Hope, is the mainstay of my life,

and the fruition of my thoughts.

Hope, will outweigh the strife,

that weighs heavily upon, my heart.

Hope, the champion of the future,

a prelude to ultimate victory.

Hope, is enough to suture,

the wounds, inflicted by misery.

Hope, will mend the broken fragments

of a life unduly shattered.

—– —– —– —–

Hope, will diminish the lament,

of those whose clothes are tattered.

Hope, designed to stich each patch,

and sew together the unraveled strands.

Hope, will help to gather all who are lost,

like collecting so many grains of sand.

Hope, will meld with faith,

bridging the gap in between.

Hope obtained, will never fade,

always contributing to the dream.

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In Sympatico

Oh L-rd,

only wisdom,

bright as your countenance,

will shed light on my wayward path,

tonight.

Tonight,

every night…

during the days of gloom,

when there is no room for this hope

to bloom.

To bloom,

like a flower,

transplanted from soil,

depleted by war’s cruelty,

and dearth.

And dearth,

leaves us scant food,

unable to nourish

our souls with everlasting hope,

and dreams.

And dreams,

vanish in sync

with the early morning

air raids, that signal a new day,

oh L-rd.

© 2022 all rights reserved

Seek to Be

The Blue Yellow Tree” by Vika Muse @get.muse In the artist’s own words:
“Escaping into the fantasy world helps to overcome the feeling of permanent anxiety caused by the war.”

Sending branches into the sky,

and roots down into the earth;

we seek to be lifted on high,

for all that we are worth.

In this world there is always a cost,

when the soul aspires to pursue

what freedom may bring, despite what is lost;

the body grieves, yet hope will ensue.

Dreams are the essence of ascent,

while our roots tether us to the ground;

inspiration keeps the goal in sight,

where our strength can be found.

We are nourished by our heritage,

our values, beliefs, and prayers,

even without the proper leverage

to move the mountains in our way.

Our trust in G-d Above will not diminish,

even in the midst of the flaming arrows of the enemy;

hope in an unseen future of peace is our wish,

even when lives are uprooted, dreams remain.

© 2022 all rights reserved