refuge – Breathing Inspiration

Shadow Weaver

Only a twenty-minute ferry ride

from Nanaimo, British Columbia,

across the bay to Gabriola Island

– my place of refuge for two months,

2,000 miles away from my former home.

There, amidst the solace of my retreat,

from the challenges of a wayward life,

I sheltered, during the winter,

while my soul had time to rest,

in safety, solitude, and quietude.

—– —– —– —–

Outside the perimeter of Gabriola,

the borders of the world could not infringe

upon my sense of time and place,

far away from the confusion of my past,

in expectation of a new life on the horizon.

And, the tides upon the beach,

watched with the silent eyes

of a New Age refugee,

rolled quietly upon the sands of time,

like my thoughts, amidst the ebb and flow

of my memories, some real, others not –

yet, unknown to me at the time,

that my personal past had been usurped

by a dark web of uncertainty,

spun by the weaver of sheker (falsity),

whose spell had now been broken.

© 2023 all rights reserved

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.

© 2022 all rights reserved

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

Our Prayers Will Not be Stifled

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.

© 2022 all rights reserved

Seeking Refuge

Despite the explosions nearby,

they daven as usual at shul;

a staunch commitment to the Almighty,

in the face of adversity and ruin.

—– —– —– —–

And, the presence of the Shechinah,

who shelters all who seek refuge under her wings;

will guarantee protection to those on the bimah,

and amongst the congregation otherwise serene.

—– —– —–

For, neither war, nor the chaos that might ensue,

will damage the spirit of the truly pious;

sending our hopes Above, into the azure blue,

our heartfelt prayers to Whom we trust.

—– —– —–

Nothing will shake the faith of the soul,

who aspires to dream beyond what appears bleak;

everything is possible, as silence reveals the toll,

of redemption, soon at hand for the meek.

© 2022 all rights reserved