The Quality of Life

Life is sanctioned by G-d,

for the sake of mankind:

to create harmony amongst us,

and the rest of His creation.

Life is disrupted by the neglect

of attention to the myriad details of its complexity,

lack of respect to the values of others,

and disavowal of responsibility to the voiceless.

Life does not repeat itself

by way of reincarnation,

nor can it be preserved by downloading

your essence onto a mainframe computer

or uploading your memories

into the artificial brain of an android.

Life only gives us one chance

to make the most of every day,

as we journey along the path to fruition

of all of our efforts, both material and spiritual,

culminating in an eternal reward.

Life regards kindness, compassion,

and helping others as assets

in our spiritual bank account;

and meanness, hatred,

and harming others as deficits

that will accumulate against us.

Life holds all things in balance,

as the Creator looks on with keen awareness

of the plight of mankind,

inclusive of every individual

on the face of the planet.

dVerse prompt

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Invisible Heritage

Our heritage is like the wind,

moving unseen through the trees;

yet, leaving an impression

amongst the sands of time,

along the beaches of distant shores,

and the deserts of the world.

Are we amongst the souls

whom may make the claim to be

children of G-d, under the heavens

that He created, before the dawn of history?

If so, the fruit of our efforts

to change ourselves for the better,

and lend a helping hand to others

must prevail over and against

the selfish urges within ourselves,

that have the capacity to sweep

away our best intentions,

while we create a house of cards

to please our own ego.

Tomorrow’s Hope

We are strangers to ourselves,

when our past has been lost,

amongst the tumult of generations,

swayed by assimilation at what cost?

While progress rolls forward,

like a steam roller, it paves the way

toward a brave new world,

flattening the truths of yesterday.

For the digital technocracy to succeed,

it must suppress individual identity,

and borrow nothing from yesteryear,

that would undermine its own supremacy.

Yet, the truth will never become subservient

to the lies of the narrative norm,

for the sake of global convenience,

nor forgotten in the hearts of the reborn.

Our past will redeem us,

our traditions will revive our spirit;

in faith we will reclaim our trust;

our conscience will guide the lyrics.

A new song in our hearts will abide,

a remembrance of our history;

our genuine selves will override

the collective approach to mentality.

Seek nourishment of the soul,

that will not permit the new normal

to take its final insidious toll

upon our belief in what is moral.

©2023 all rights reserved

Manifest Presence

“Who hath ascended up into heaven, and descended? Who hath gathered the wind in his fists? Who hath bound the waters in his garment? Who hath established all the ends of the earth? What is his name, and what is his son’s name, if thou knowest?” – Proverbs 30:4, JPS 1917 Tanach

Rising above, falling below

the waves of emotions, tossing to and fro.

If I ascend to the heights,

my spirit will be greeted by Your grace;

and if I descend into the abyss,

there, You may be found in the darkness.

Before I came into existence,

You knew the depths of my soul;

so, I will take comfort,

even when the storms assail,

and the waters rise, threatening to engulf me.

For You have reckoned the four corners of the world,

in a single glance, taking all into account;

and, graced me with Your presence,

through the manifestation of Your son.

Words Blossom

While my speech was limited, and any thoughts expressed nil, over the years, my reticent nature compelled me to remain silent most of the time. Perhaps, not being able to find one’s own way in the world, while tethered to the past, and grounded upon nothing more than the shifting sands of emotions, without a framework for viewing the world, how can a meaningful statement be made?

Yet, from time to time, the seed of a poem laid dormant in my heart,* until flowing out like a tributary into the ocean, my words, inspired by the depths of my soul, made their way onto paper, and eventually to the ears of others, when I read them out loud. Now, every morning, when I wake, thoughts coalesce, and sometimes the best of them resurface on a page during the day. My soul yearns to blossom.

*from “Winged Words,” by Valsa George

dVerse prompt

Springtime Reconciliation

Summer fades into the autumn greys,

and soon winter will arrive with the decay

of the leaves on trees, and blooming things.

The prairie dogs retreat into their dens,

to hibernate until the beginning of Spring.

We watch with anxious anticipation

for the redemption of the creation,

marked by the month of Aviv,

when all mankind is made free.

Without anywhere to hide,

our sins are brought to light,

and like a prairie dog standing,

by his hole, in imitation of prayer,

we are called to ward off the doldrums

of our mind, and reconcile ourselves

to the Creator of all things peaceable

within His Kingdom.

dVerse prompt

Zoom’n

CREATOR: gd-jpeg v1.0 (using IJG JPEG v62), quality = 90

Zoom in, step back,

Reconnoiter, reflect.

Stop. Look.

Don’t miss that.

(FOMO).

Isn’t it sad

how life can seem to pass us by,

when we are feeling down and out?

Yet, on cruise control,

running on automatic,

our life passes by

without our presence.

Bare Earth

This barren landscape of the mind,

where time renews only those who have hope

in the ways of the ancient past

treaded by the sages of ages that still last

for the sake of the preservation of our heritage;

this bare earth, devoid of nourishment

soil, depleted by the wars that have wasted the land,

and the shores of distant beaches,

where the sands of time drift into the sea;

even the biosphere cries out on behalf of the world,

to renew the manifold aspects of creation –

mankind, the task begins with us,

through the renewal of the soul.

Remain Human

A fusing of mind and marrow

with electronic circuits and code,

offers no hope to the human soul,

only a dystopian merger.

Of A.I. and the divine blueprint of life,

these two are not meant to mix and match,

for only by standing in our own integrity,

can we discover our inner purpose.

Consider that we are already being primed,

to think in tandem with artificial thoughts,

generated by chatbots that aid the task

of thinking for ourselves.

It is a slippery slope toward a dystopian future,

wherein we begin to meld into something less human,

alienating ourselves from our essential being,

and causing a rift between our souls and G-d.

note to the reader:

this poem was written by a human, not a ChatBot;

although, the following image was generated by Craiyon A.I. Generator:

A.I. Defeats Itself

The following task was given to A.I. ChatGPT:

“Create a poem about the benefit of the human soul versus artificial intelligence.” Here is the result:

The human soul, a wondrous thing,

so much depth, so much to bring,

a source of joy, a source of pain,

a wealth of knowledge, A.I. can’t contain.

With empathy and compassion too,

the soul helps us understand what’s true,

our hopes, our fears, our innermost thoughts,

it’s what connects us, ties our knots.

Unlike machines of metal and steel,

the human soul can truly feel,

the warmth of love, the chill of fear,

the things that make our lives so dear.

We laugh, we cry, we hope, we dream,

we see the world in a different gleam,

we can imagine and we can create,

and shape our lives, our fate, our state.

For all its might, and all its brawn,

artificial intelligence can’t spawn,

the depths of soul, the human touch,

that makes us feel, that makes us clutch.

So let us cherish our souls so bright,

and all the beauty that comes in sight,

for in a world of machines and gear,

the human soul will always steer.

dVerse prompt

note to reader: I could not resist pitting A.I. against itself, as I am a staunch advocate of the human soul, and a decrier of the potential negative ramifications of A.I. Several weeks ago, I had a conversation about A.I. ChatGPT with a friend of mine, wherein we discussed its drawbacks upon the development of human beings. So, in responding to the poetry prompt to use A.I. to write a poem, I felt compelled to let A.I. describe its own limitations.

P.S. I made one change in the first stanza, ironically changing “we” to A.I.

And, an image from Craiyon A.I. Generator: