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The Man Who Sold His Beams

By William S. Becker -
The Man Who Sold His Beams He came to the path with fire in his chest Certain his wisdom was better than the rest He spoke about love, connection, the light But inside his ego prepared for the fight. The Ten sat together like brothers in line Each one carrying a spark of the Divine But his will to receive began its routine Searching the cracks in the human machine. “Look at that friend, he’s lazy as hell. That one talks big but his heart you can’t tell. And that one over there, what a fraud in disguise.” Thus spoke the sweet voice of the inner spies. At first he believed it—every damn word. The poison felt smart, logical, assured. He sharpened his judgment like a polished blade While the bridge to the friends quietly decayed. Then the darkness arrived like a cold desert wind. The lessons felt empty, no warmth within. The Creator went silent, the heart turned to stone And suddenly he felt completely alone. He cursed the Ten. He cursed the path. He cursed the Creator in quiet wrath. “May...
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Sukkah of Light

By William S. Becker -
Sukkah of Light Going to war means shaping the soul Not for the body but for the goal To tie our hearts like ropes so tight And aim them all to the One true Light We gather together, ten by ten Broken riders and working men Each friend pushing the other ahead Toward the place where the Creator is spread Together we rise, together we fall Creator above us, holding us all Turn this war into peace tonight Cover our hearts with Your Sukkah of Light יחד נקום יחד ניפול הבורא מעלינו מחזיק את הכל הפוך מלחמה לשלום בלב פרוש עלינו סוכת שלום עכשיו The war we fight is the will to receive A thief in the heart that makes us deceive It whispers softly “take for your own” And leaves every man dying alone But ten friends standing shoulder to shoulder Turn weak little sparks into burning boulders We shout from the depth of a desperate prayer “Creator come finish the work started there!” Together we rise, together we fall Creator above us, holding us all Turn this war into peace tonight Cover our hearts w...
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The Partzuf Within

By William S. Becker -
  The Partzuf Within Before form there was only a cry, A wanting that did not know why. A hunger burning deep inside, A will to receive it could not hide. The Light approached — simple, whole, kind, But shattered the peace of the mind. For pleasure received without care Left shame awakening there. So the desire learned to restrain, Not to kill want — but change the gain. A silence formed… a sacred stop, Malchut refusing to simply drop. And there inside that inward pause, A Head was born — obeying laws. The Rosh now asks before delight: “Can this be taken for the Light?” Calculation — subtle and thin, Not what I want… but Who I’m in. The desire weighs what it may receive, Only what love can truly give. Then comes the Toch , the felt embrace, Where Light and intention share one place. Pleasure enters — calm and bright, Because reception now serves the Light. And oh how different pleasure feels When bestowal turns the wheels. No longer burning, grasping flame, But quiet joy wi...
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Which Horse You Ride

By William S. Becker -
  “Which Horse You Ride” The changes in the world are strange at best People argue and fight, releasing the ego's nest Never realizing that’s one of the ego's tools When they use it, it leaves us feeling like fools When we stop, think and decide Which horse you're gonna ride The one that bucks and kicks you off Or the one that whispers so nice and soft One runs on anger, pride, and fear It shouts so loud you think it's clear It promises power, respect, and fame But leaves you empty, full of blame The other is quiet, you barely hear It speaks through love, draws friends near It asks for nothing, just to give And shows the only way to live One horse runs wild, tearing apart The other rides straight through the heart One throws you down in dust and pain The other walks you home again So look at the reins you hold so tight Ask who is leading in this fight The ego screams, “Take all you can!” The soul just whispers, “Love your man.”
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Two Choices, One Voice

By William S. Becker -
  Born into a system with two sets of rules One all for self and the other to give away all your jewels One is awake and the other asleep One wants to give and the other to keep The trick is to step back and see What is fighting for your power complete Two voices inside, both pulling the reins One promises pleasure, the other brings pains One builds a prison you never can see The other unlocks what you’re meant to be The one that takes whispers, “Think only of you” The one that gives asks, “What can love do?” One feeds the hunger that never is filled The other grows quiet where faith can be built So stand in the middle, don’t run, don’t pretend Just watch who is speaking, and who is your friend For power is chosen in each breath you make To give for the truth, while the ego takes
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The Fire We Aim

By William S. Becker -
Envy, Lust and Honor, gifts from above Showing us how to use them to promote love We can use them for corporal desires But the second you do you extinguish the fire Chasing the body, the praise, and the throne Leaves a man empty, cold, and alone You fill up the pockets but starve the soul Each selfish step digs a deeper hole But envy the friends and the path that they take Lust for connection that none can fake Honor the ones who walk truthfully near And suddenly love begins to appear Oh turn that fire, let it rise up high Lift the friends’ hearts to the open sky What burned for self now lights the way Love in the ten grows day by day What once burned wild for self and for gain Now warms the heart and softens the pain The same fierce fire that once pulled apart Now lights the ten and ignites the heart See the ten as new with each sunrise No fault in the friend, just mirrors for the eyes Take their desires, make them your own Raise them together to the One on the throne Oh turn th...
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Climbing The Mountain Of ME

By William S. Becker -
 Climbing The Mountain Of ME A man walks proud, says, “I’m strong, I’m fine,” But trips on the same old wants every time. He swears he’s good, he means no harm, Then grabs for self with a greedy arm. A hill shows up, but it’s no small mound, It’s a mountain of “me” piled high on the ground. Each thought for self, each secret deal, Stacks one more rock the heart must feel. He fights that hill, slips on the clay, Curses the dark that blocks the way. Shouts at the sky, “Why me? Why now?” While feeding the beast he won’t disavow. Then comes the spice, so plain, so light, Not a sword, not a grand big fight. Just words of Torah, a quiet flame, That slowly tames the inner shame. The evil voice don’t die or flee, It just sits down more quietly. Still grins, still waits, still wants its share, But now there’s help in the air. So man keeps walking, bruised but true, With love in sight and work to do. The hill is self, the path is above— A brutal road, all wrapped in love.
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