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 said,

I request of you, your all.

(warning: violence)

(coronation scene)

Renewal on the Horizon

creative image by Lee Madgwick

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.

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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.

note: inspired by “Home is where you feel at home. I’m still looking,” from Truman Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s

dVerse prompt

Kol haTor

“The blossoms have appeared in the land, the time of pruning has come; the song of the turtledove is heard in our land.” – Song of Songs 2:12, JPS 1985 Tanach

The Geulah arrives,

sanctification begins –

the dross is removed.

The turning point is at hand, when all across the land, the refugees will return to their homeland. Come one and all into the Promised Land, that has been reserved for you until this time in history, as the renewal begins. Not without strife and turmoil, nor without the challenges of a lifetime, for we must prevail against the tides of change in this world, in order to enter the next unscathed. With our souls still intact, we will outlast the devastation upon the earth, that will continue to take a toll on mankind. Arise, arise look within, and begin to make the journey.

Six thousand years of history, sifting through the narrow pathway of an hourglass, as if time is reckoned a thousand years, like a day, in G-d’s eyes. Upon entering eternity, our tears will become streams of life-giving waters, flowing underneath the palace of the King. Upon the creation of the new heavens and earth, all that troubled us before the Redemption shall be forgotten, like feathers floating to earth, re-collected to form a great-winged malach, rising up out of the ashes of yesterday, and the decay of a seedling, planted with the Kingdom in mind.

Illusive Future

The trees bow down in the wind toward the Unseen One, Who waits patiently to reclaim His Kingdom. All G-d’s creatures yearn with intense expectation for the arrival of the King, who will renew all of the Earth. Yet, the nations continue in their obstinacy, to create a New Babylon, irrespective of the Original Architect of the World, and His divine blueprint. Where will these efforts lead?

I, for one, have no illusion about the future. Talk what you please, of future spring and sun-warm’d sweet to-morrow;* however, I know that it is always darkest before the dawn. So, while the world prepares for future calamities, as if mankind can buffer itself against the inevitable, and survive by creating a technological utopia, I will continue to pray, hope, and dream of the only true solution on the horizon at dawn upon the King’s arrival.

*courtesy of Christine Rossetti, from the poem Daughter of Eve