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)

Future Coexistence

Desolate, landscape flattened by conflagration,

engulfed in flames, leaving a blackened char,

compelling predators to encroach upon man’s habitations,

as mountain lions eye cattle as prey,

and rabbits have nowhere to hide.

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

Reminds of the devastation in Mariupol –

ninety percent destroyed by the invasion;

as Mother Russia sends her children into the fray,

on an ill-guided mission to subdue a people,

compromised of many voices, beliefs, and ways.

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

All of G-d’s creation is subject to changes,

beyond our understanding, for we share a common fate,

when removed from the lands we knew as home;

and who knows of the soul of man that ascends,

and the spirit of the beasts that descend into the earth,

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

Namely, that mankind, the crown of creation

is called to account for our passage of time,

upon the surface of G-d’s blue and white sphere,

first seen as a whole, in its entirety, by astronauts,

who transcended humanity for a brief moment?

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

Like a tree, planted alongside flowing waters,

mankind is destined to flourish despite all odds,

even endure the momentous cataclysms ahead,

like a final test, before transitioning into a world,

where niches are shared underneath blue skies.

Our Hope

Ribon HaOlamim,

Master of the Worlds,

look down upon your children,

and hear our plea, for the sake of peace,

amongst Your diverse Creation.

You are One, and Your Name is One:

yet, not until the Day of Reckoning,

will this be realized in our hearts.

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

In hope, in fulfillment of all

that is promised to Your people,

we cast our eyes above, towards You,

in recognition of Your awesome holiness,

and in acknowledgment of our

human weaknesses and pettiness.

Bestow Your light upon us,

and hearken to our prayers.

Tears

Each teardrop from Shomayim,

splashes into the reservoir of dreams,

ripples out in concentric circles,

across the dismayed nations,

into the hearts of mankind.

Our tears are His, pouring through us,

enabling us to retain our own sense of humanity;

for without tears, there are only stifled emotions,

wherein pain endures, unless expressed in words.

I shall not refrain from writing,

nor from dwelling on what is uniquely tragic,

as long as my sense of compassion outweighs

any negative feelings that may arise,

in response to this burden, that I bear.

Such is our faithfulness towards G-d as well –

that He will bestow upon us a measure of faith,

commensurate with our ability to serve Him.

Butterflies

Amongst the fields of sunflowers,

dreaming in the winds of change,

butterflies roam, partaking of the nectar.

Sweet dreams interrupted by a shift

in the pleasant breezes,

accompanied by dark clouds.

Nectar runs dry, and petals wilt,

as the resting places

of the fragile two-winged creatures,

disappear from the fields.

How many Ukrainian refugees,

who have taken flight,

from the devastation,

will be blessed with a new beginning,

in faraway places, where safety resides,

miles away from their homes?

My ancestors, with prescient insight,

migrated across the Atlantic Ocean,

before the flames of the Shoah

engulfed Bolechov, and took the lives

of those who remained in the shtetl.

Ghosts of the past cry out,

Release me, into the wind,

so that our memories

will not be forgotten.