THE DARKNESS KNOWS MY NAME

Yesterday I swore my heart was clean,

Today I'm the ugliest thing I've seen.

I kissed the heavens, I praised His name,

Then woke up drowning in selfish shame.

I loved my brothers, I called them mine,

Today their voices crawl down my spine.

I said I'd carry them through the night,

Now I can't even stand their light.

I sat in the lesson, my heart was stone,

A thousand friends, yet I felt alone.

Their words were beautiful, filled with grace,

But all I could see was my own damned face.

I begged the Creator, "Where have You gone?

I've given You years, why drag me on?

I've broken my pride, I've swallowed my tears,

Why am I still this selfish after all these years?"

And somewhere beneath that terrible cry,

A truth broke through what I thought was I.

The darkness wasn't proof I'd lost my way,

It showed me what I'd hidden yesterday.

He hadn't abandoned me in the night,

He'd shown me the darkness beneath my light.

Not so I'd suffer, not so I'd fall,

But so I'd discover I owned nothing at all.

I cannot love with this heart of stone,

I cannot reach You on strength alone.

I cannot bestow by pretending I'm free,

While every damn thought keeps returning to me.

So strip me of pride, let my excuses die,

But don't let me leave when my brothers cry.

Let me become the ground beneath their feet,

And find You in the hearts where our longings meet.

And if tomorrow I fall once more,

With bleeding hands I'll reach for the door.

Not because darkness is where I belong,

But because together we rise from what's wrong.

I thought advancement would feel like flight,

Like endless love and heavenly light.

But sometimes the greatest step I take,

Is seeing the selfish heart I must break.

So let the darkness reveal my shame,

I'll bring it to You and call Your name.

For every descent that teaches me to give,

Becomes another reason for love to live.

 

THE OLD FOOL IN THE MIRROR

I woke this morning, cursed the day,

The bills were due, no way to pay.

I begged the Creator to make things right,

Then blamed the whole damn world by night.

The coffee's cold, the car won't start,

Another disappointment tears my heart.

I preach of love, of faith, of grace,

Then curse the man who takes my place.

My brother speaks, I turn away,

Too proud to hear what he might say.

I speak of unity, pure and true,

But only when they do what I want them to.

I sit with friends and bow my head,

While judging every word they've said.

I claim my heart is theirs to hold,

Yet keep my love locked up like gold.

I pray for strength to rise above,

Then demand my payment for giving love.

I tell the Creator, "I'll give You all,"

But only if You won't let me fall.

You old damn fool, look in that glass!

How many years have you let pass?

Your beard turned gray, your body grew old,

But that selfish king still owns your soul.

And when I rise, I proudly say,

"I've conquered myself! I've found the way!"

But one harsh word, one broken plan,

And I'm that same old selfish man.

Yet every fall reveals the lie,

Every dark night teaches me why.

I cannot purchase love or light,

Nor beat my ego in this fight.

So strip me bare of what I claim,

My pride, my wisdom, even my name.

Let every failure teach me to see,

That nothing good begins with me.

And when my friend falls to the floor,

Let me be first to open the door.

Not ask what he can do for me,

But lift him up until he's free.

For Abraham's days were not just years,

But countless beginnings washed in tears.

A thousand nights, a thousand falls,

A thousand times he heard the calls.

So when tomorrow brings its pain,

I'll rise and start the work again.

Not as a king demanding his throne,

But as a child with nothing his own.

And if my nights outnumber my days,

I'll turn each darkness into praise.

For even the fool who has fallen apart,

Can beg the Creator for a giving heart.

THE ENEMY WE CALL OURSELVES

 THE ENEMY WE CALL OURSELVES

A man can spend his whole damn life,  

Chasing peace through pain and strife.  

He builds his kingdom, brick by brick,  

Then wonders why his heart feels sick.

He buys his children everything,  

The finest clothes, a diamond ring.  

But when they cry, he turns away,  

Too damn busy to hear what they say.

He tells his wife, "I love you, dear,"  

But only when she bends to fear.  

And when she asks to simply be,  

He screams, "Why can't you think like me?"

He calls his brother, "My dear friend,"  

Then tears him down to win again.  

He speaks of love and unity,  

But God forbid they disagree.

He sits before the morning light,  

And begs the Creator to make things right.  

Yet while his lips are forming prayer,  

His heart is screaming, "IT'S NOT FAIR!"

"I've given years! I've done my part!  

So why the hell this broken heart?  

Where is the joy? Where is my pay?  

Why won't You take this pain away?"

And there it stands, the naked truth,  

The beast that's ruled us since our youth.  

Not some dark devil from below,  

But our own desire that won't let go.

Give it a hundred—it demands two,  

Give it the world—it still wants you.  

It drinks from rivers, drains them dry,  

Then curses heaven, asking why.

**But listen, friend, beneath that cry,  

There's something holy that cannot die.  

A tiny longing, buried deep,  

A spark the selfish heart can't keep.**

It wants to love without a price,  

To give itself in sacrifice.  

To see another rise above,  

And find its happiness in love.

But when a friend begins to shine,  

The serpent whispers, "What about mine?"  

And when another takes the lead,  

Our pride comes crawling out to feed.

We call it justice, call it right,  

Then feed our hatred through the night.  

We blame the world, we blame the fall,  

But never see who's built the wall.

And here's the truth that breaks the bone:  

**No man can conquer this alone.**  

You cannot beat your selfish will,  

With selfish strength that serves it still.

So take this heart, this heart of stone,  

This heart that wants the world to own.  

And let it finally learn to see,  

That love begins when it's not "ME."

Not by destroying what we are,  

Or throwing every wish afar.  

But turning all that hunger's flame,  

To serve the others in Your name.

Let envy teach me how to bless,  

Let pride bow down to tenderness.  

Let every wound become a door,  

Through which I learn to give much more.

And when my brother rises high,  

Let joy replace my jealous cry.  

And when my own desires burn,  

Teach me to love without return.

Then even that old serpent's voice,  

Will find in giving its rejoice.  

The enemy that ruled my days,  

Will join my heart in songs of praise.

For heaven isn't something bought,  

Nor conquered by the strength we've got.  

It's when the Creator lifts us free,  

From serving only "ME, ME, ME."

And all the nations deep inside,  

The lust, the hunger, fear, and pride,  

Will praise the One who made them see,  

That love, not greed, has set them free.

**So break me, Lord—not out of spite,  

But break the chains that block Your light.  

And from the pieces, let there rise,  

One heart that loves through others' eyes.**

For when the will to take gives way,  

And mercy rules the heart one day,  

The greatest miracle we'll see,  

Is when my brother matters more than me.

Justice,Mercy humility

I stood before the world demanding what was right,  

While feeding my own ego in the darkness of the night.  

I screamed for perfect justice, with judgment in my hand,  

But never saw the selfish beast on which my feet would stand.  

I spoke of love and mercy while begging to be seen,  

I polished every good deed till my reputation gleamed.  

I gave with one hand open, but the other held the bill,  

And called it holy service while demanding payment still.  

**DO JUSTICE!** Let the truth tear through my pride,  

Expose the filthy selfishness I've learned so well to hide.  

**LOVE MERCY!** Even when my heart is torn,  

Embrace the very brother whose rejection I have worn.  

**WALK HUMBLY!** Let nobody know my name,  

Let every act of giving burn away my need for fame.  

If all I do is sweep the floors within the King's great hall,  

Then let me sweep with joy and never ask for more at all.  

What good is all my wisdom if my brother stands alone?  

What good are all my prayers if I demand a golden throne?  

What good is speaking of the Light while keeping love outside?  

What good is serving Heaven with a heart consumed by pride?  

So break this will to take, until there's nothing left to claim,  

No medals for my suffering, no glory for my name.  

Just let me lift my brothers till their hearts begin to shine,  

And find my greatest pleasure when their joy becomes mine.  

For justice without mercy leaves a heart as cold as stone,  

And mercy seeking honor serves the ego's empty throne.  

But justice clothed in kindness, with humility above,  

Becomes the hidden pathway to the Creator's endless love.  

And when the world forgets me, let my heart remain content,  

For every breath of giving was the reason I was sent.  

No crown, no throne, no payment, no applause for what I've done,  

Just ten hearts joined in bestowal, beating perfectly as one.

 

THE THIEF INSIDE MY HEART

By William S. Becker

I fed a man who had no bread,

Then praised myself for keeping him fed.

I gave my coat to a man in the rain,

Then waited for heaven to notice my pain.

I prayed for a friend whose world fell apart,

While secretly judging the state of his heart.

I spoke of love, of truth, of grace,

Then cursed my brother behind his face.

I sat with the friends and lowered my head,

But wanted them hearing the words that I said.

I cried to the Creator, "I'm giving my all!"

Then cursed His silence when no answers would fall.

Oh, what a bastard this ego can be,

Stealing the love that was never for me!

Dressing in kindness, pretending to give,

Demanding a payment for each day I live.

I built me a kingdom, a throne and a name,

Then called it bestowal to cover my shame.

Two masters were living inside of my chest,

One seeking the Creator, one seeking the best.

But love isn't measured by what I receive,

Nor the tears that I cry, nor the words I believe.

It's giving the friend what my ego would keep,

It's holding his burden when the mountain is steep.

So tear down my kingdom, let self-love depart,

Expose every thief hiding deep in my heart.

Let all of my waters flow into One,

Until there is nothing for self to be won.

And when I can give without claiming a thing,

When another man's joy makes my broken heart sing,

Then perhaps in the place where our selfishness ends,

We'll discover the Creator alive in the friends.

THE DISTANCE BETWEEN OUR HEARTS

# THE DISTANCE BETWEEN OUR HEARTS

*By William S. Becker*

Five days remain, and my heart's already there,  

Among all my brothers, united in prayer.  

But my pockets are empty, no wheels to ride,  

And a thousand miles stand between me and their side.

I've suffered through losses, through anguish and pain,  

But this kind of longing cuts deeper again.  

For I don't seek riches, or pleasures, or fame,  

Just to sit with my brothers and call out His Name.

To lower my head, to annul what I am,  

To give them my heart, not a piece, but the man.  

To stand in their circle, with nothing to hide,  

And feel all our hearts beating as one inside.

God damn this distance, this helpless despair,  

To know where my heart lives, yet not to be there.  

No money, no car, just these tears that I cry,  

While the world keeps on turning, indifferent to why.

But love knows no borders, no highways, no walls,  

And the heart of a brother still hears when one calls.  

So I'll give them my longing, my sorrow, my pain,  

And pray that their unity blossoms like rain.

Let them rise higher, though I cannot attend,  

Let my broken heart serve every brother and friend.  

And if I must remain here, alone and apart,  

Then let them all gather **inside my heart.**

For the Creator knows what these tears are worth,  

When a man wants connection more than all of this earth.  

And though I can't hold them, or look in their eyes,  

**I'll carry their love till the day that I rise.**

**And if my heart breaks, let it break for them all,  

For love is the reason I answered His call.**

A Carpet Beneath Their Feet

 "A Carpet Beneath Their Feet"

I did not come to stand above,

Or claim the highest place in love.

I came to bow, to bend, to kneel,

To lift my friends beyond what I feel.

Let them walk upon my pride,

Let every selfish thought subside.

I'll be the carpet beneath their feet,

If through my love, their souls can meet.

What good is wisdom locked inside,

While brothers suffer from my pride?

What good are prayers that fill the air,

If I refuse their burdens to bear?

The ego screams, "You must be first!"

But that is where the heart is cursed.

For every time I demand my way,

I push the light of love away.

So break my arrogance, strip it bare,

Until there's nothing left but care.

Not for the honor, not for the crown,

But for the strength to bow me down.

We do not need to think the same,

Or wear one face, or speak one name.

Our differences are not the wall,

But opportunities to rise above them all.

And when disturbances shake the ground,

When love seems lost and cannot be found,

We'll hold each other through the night,

And turn our darkness toward the light.

For every blow the ego brings,

Another chance for the heart to sing.

Another chance to choose the friend,

Another wall of separation to end.

I'll give my strength when yours is gone,

You'll lift me up when I can't go on.

And through the concessions that we make,

A single heart begins to wake.

Until no brother stands alone,

No separate kingdom, no selfish throne.

Just one desire, one common plea,

That all my friends rise higher than me.

And at the threshold, bruised and worn,

A different kind of life is born.

Not through the strength of flesh or mind,

But through the love we build and bind.

Then what was hidden starts to show,

A world the selfish heart can't know.

And in the vessel between us all,

We hear the Creator's loving call.

So let me be the lowest stone,

Upon which every friend has grown.

For when their hearts together rise,

The upper worlds open before our eyes.

And if my friends attain that height,

Then every wound was worth the fight.

For I have found what I came to be—

A servant of love, where all are free.