Be-ing

Elusive, grey sky,

Background of countless raindrops;

Never ending flow.

Sometimes, like an ineffable puzzle, my mind rests in the midst of an incomplete picture, with the past on hold, and the future on pause. Time seems to be a superimposed structure upon eternity. Mood becomes everything – the ultimate color of an endless reality, never changing, always experienced from the center of being. The rain is a reminder that everything happens in the present moment.

Worry dissipates, fear diminishes, and peace reigns in the stillness of the heart. A meditative experience that blends into the passing hours of the day. There is no room for regret, nor concern for tomorrow. The potential of renewal exists in every moment of time, that passes unnoticed, because there is no linear reckoning of time as such. As is written, G-d placed eternity in the heart of man (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Renewal

Is the past beyond redemption?
Can not the truth be retrieved
from amidst this disorderly pile
of worn out tattered journals?

The dust that has collected,
must be sifted out from amongst
these scattered pages, uncategorized;
yet, containing the codes of my life.

A life, previously unraveled,
like nucleotides rearranged on a double helix,
twisting and turning along an invisible axis
of the original blueprint of life.

In the distance – a light –
that bears witness to the tragic notes,
sounded out throughout an endeavor
to peer through the darkness.

In time, the dust becomes
visible to the eye of the soul,
when the first ray of dawn,
shines through the window.

Every particle, suspended in the air,
for a brief moment, before settling
down on the floor, vanishes from sight,
like the bioluminescence of fireflies.

New Beginnings

Tu b’Shevat 5781

Silence. In the depth of the Void, until the first word is spoken;

and, the word spoken, remained in its essence, with the Speaker,

as its potential energy went forth into the emptiness, ex nihilo.

And, there was light, ohr chadash, enlightening the newly born universe,

weaving its way throughout time and space, rapidly expanding outwards,

until time took hold, in nanoseconds, as the vessels were formed.

The culmination of evening, and the beginning of morning were yom echad;

the waters were divided, above and below; heaven showed forth its glory;

the sun to rule by day, and the moon to rule by night.

And, as form was encompassed, within and without by spirit,

sunrise, and sunset, the myriads of creatures were given existence;

on the sixth day, the crown of creation was given to mankind.

And, on the seventh day, the Creator rested;

behold, all that had been created gleamed with light;

Adam and Eve began to populate the earth.

poem: Horizon

I’ve grown lazy,
as my dreams clash with reality.
I have become disconnected from the actual,
because I focus on what would be ideal.

I sit behind my screen, peering into the world.
Trying to gain some kind of perspective,
that will shed light on current events.

Every time that I close down the screen,
the world vanishes along with the pixels,
that make up words and images.

On the morrow, they will reappear,
reconfigured in new patterns,
as changeable as the currents

of life that pulse through
a pastiche of reality
that never captures the essence,

falls short of the mark every time,
because of divisiveness, bias,
and myopic visions.

Like the parable about the elephant,
each person only able to describe
a singular part of the whole.

Yet, hope is on the horizon,
when the lies subside
and the truth prevails.

The long awaited Kingdom,
wherein the lion and the lamb
live in peace with all of mankind.

To this, I look forward,
when all else is in disarray,
when mountains crumble,

I know that what remains
will be here to stay.

Renewal

Can the past be redeemed?
Can the truth be retrieved
from amidst this pile
of tattered journals?

The dust that has collected,
must be sifted out from amongst
these scattered pages, uncategorized;
yet, containing the codes of a life

previously unravelled,
like nucleotides rearranged on a double helix,
twisting and turning along an invisible axis
of the original blueprint of life.

In the distance – a light –
bearing witness, to the tragic notes,
played throughout an endeavor
to peer through the darkness.

The dust is made visible
to the eye of the soul,
while the first ray of dawn,
shines through the window.

Every particle, suspended in the air,
for a brief moment, before settling,
on the floor, vanishing from sight,
like the incandescence of fireflies.

poem: Pixels

Floating images on the screen of life,
pixels, arranged in patterns that draw attention
to a fragment of time, captured in a moment,
an impression of the transitory nature of life.

Existing for a minute or two on the screen,
until they retreat back into code,
hidden, like invisible points of light,
behind the veil of this world.

poem: Tapestry

Shall I aspire to a literary career?
I asked myself, many years ago.
While sitting in poetry classes,
presented with a variety of voices,
hoping to find my own voice.

Years later, challenged from Above,
to shift my vision, from the worldly views
of the classroom setting, to the supernal realm
of my heritage, my people, my G-d.

Yet, all things have their purpose,
in time with the rhyme of the seasons
of life, like threads in a tapestry,
weaved into a unique pattern,
for a divine purpose unknown to us.

Everything comes full circle,
as my friend would say with a smile,
bringing the frayed ends of our lives together,
and, permitting us to start anew,
with a clearer view of the tapestry.