Laziness is a foe,
that takes its toll in due time,
when regret seeps into the mind,
for not having done what is primary.
Like a shadow, always tugging at the sleeve,
reminding of what was neglected.
When will I get a-round to it?

Laziness is a foe,
that takes its toll in due time,
when regret seeps into the mind,
for not having done what is primary.
Like a shadow, always tugging at the sleeve,
reminding of what was neglected.
When will I get a-round to it?
The recalcitrance
of the heart of Pharaoh,
his refusal to acknowledge G-d,
shook him to the marrow,
as the hail descended.
The miraculous nature of fire within ice,
wreaked havoc on the land
and briefly brought him to his senses;
this was G-d’s hand.
Oh, ruinous soul,
shall you continue in your negativity?
The threads are bare, exposing your despair,
consuming even the sparks of hope,
that need time to be fanned into flames
of promise for renewal in your life.
—– —– —– —– —–
What of strife? It serves no purpose,
unless transcended when the challenge is met.
What of worldly comfort? (Never to be of avail
to the uncomfortability of a restless soul).
What of love? That can only flourish
in a heart transformed by G-d alone.
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How can I steer a steady course,
toward Your benevolence and kindness?
Only by giving the helm
to Your guidance and direction.
How can I remain on the path
toward Your promises?
Only by fixing my gaze upon You,
rather than on this world.
—– —– —– —–
And, yet, if I am fortunate,
Your gaze also rests upon me.
For, how can I maintain
this grace bestowed upon me,
except to receive what You give?
And, how can I obtain peace of mind,
except to give of myself to others?
—– —– —– —–
For You have shown us the way,
through Your attributes of mercy,
that are freely given at Your discretion,
despite our lack of merit.
And, You are the first and the last,
Your presence will rest upon Israel.
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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.
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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,
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.
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Many places, arrived at by life’s choices,
concretized in time, once a decision’s made.
A multitude of possibilities, cast aside,
in favor of the one, that changes everything.
—– —– —–
A blanket of snow in winter, covers
all growth, that has since decayed.
Spring brings renewal to the heart and mind;
consolation to the cobwebs of the past.
Summer bears the burden of responsibility,
when all is brought to the light of truth.
In preparation for the autumn leaves,
that will fall gently to the ground.
—– —– —–
These natural cycles are determined
by more factors than our own choices.
I was once given a polished stone,
a constant reminder of silence.
Prayer is tempered by tragedy,
ringing like cymbals in the ears of G-d.
This kind of prayer
reverberates in the Heavens.
These are the prayers of the faithful,
while under duress in basements,
with the pounding of missiles,
and the screaming sirens.
Secure, while huddled underground,
in a place of refuge & prayer,
within our hearts, every minute, pulsing.
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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.
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