Called, in one moment of divine inspiration,

by the One who reaches down from seventh heaven,

with His right hand, to guide the contrite of heart

to safe shores, where rest may be found

from the tumults of life that endanger the soul,

bringing light to those bound in the darkness

of the world, unable to find their way.

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

I was constrained by cords of mental bonds,

trapped by the Deceiver, and secured in the lair

of the Adversary, until G-d freed me from my shackles,

appearing as my redeemer within the lion’s den,

where I would have been torn, rendered into pieces,

had He not shown me a way out of the arena,

and brought me to safety, after crossing the sea.

Silence of the Pearl

Focused on my own comfort,

like an oyster, easily irritated

by a grain of sand in its home,

I seek to minimize the pain.

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

The many coatings of calcium carbonate,

secreted as a self-defense mechanism,

create a shiny lustrous pearl, treasured

by the human aesthetic appreciation.

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

Shall this not serve as a lesson,

for myself, and others as well,

who can transform sorrow into joy,

suffering into divine silence?

Plea of the Pearl

There is something greater, than can be imagined, on the other side of the Veil. Something beyond compare to anything that can be found in this world. Yet, you continue to dive for pearls, as if treasures can only be manifest by searching the seas.

Our tears of compassion will be dried by the angels. Yet, you are heartless, and say, “No, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife” (1).

Those who weep for the poor, downtrodden, and voiceless, will be comforted when the Kingdom appears at dawn. Yet, your myopic focus on self, will not be rewarded on the Day Judgment.

Cast away your ambition, for the sake of Heaven, and search for the lost souls, whose renewal will bring you joy. For, “to save a life, is as if an entire world will be saved” (2).

(1). Zora Neale Hurston, from “How Does it Feel to be Colored Me” in World Tomorrow (1928)

(2). Jerusalem Talmud, Sanhedrin 4:1

poem: Dawn 2

Biding my time, in syncopation
with the angels fluttering by,
outside of my window, during the day,
and receding into heaven by dusk.

They will return to gather the elect
children of G-d, waiting in patience
for the darkness to pass at last,
revealing the truth on High.

At dawn, we will be lifted into the air,
transcending once and for all,
this world of tears, and sorrow –
transformed into our true selves.

poetry: hisbodedus

Early morning reverie

transitions into a prayerful melody

of lost causes, fallen hopes,

unrealized dreams,

and unfulfilled potential,

all transformed into words

uplifted, elevated like sparks,

redeemed from the crucible,

By the promise of a new day.