Poem of Unity in the Ten

Poem of Unity in the Ten

The greatest work is to unite as one,

To seek the Creator till the veil is gone.

In every ten the Shechina will shine,

A dwelling of mercy, a presence divine.

Each comes to his friend with a word to bestow,

To share of the path, what the heart longs to know.

Annulment in circles, each bending low,

So kindness and mercy through heaven will flow.

For more than the calf who yearns for the breast,

The Giver of life longs to grant us His rest.

He hastens to bless where intentions are pure,

Revealing His kindness that ever endures.

But hidden within is the battle unspoken,

The pride of the heart that resists being broken.

Without prayer and yearning the ten will not stand,

It turns into dust, like castles of sand.

So gather with purpose, not friendship alone,

For unity’s root is the One we enthrone.

Together we rise, above reason we climb,

The Shechina revealed in our circle sublime.

From Ketter to Binah and Binah to Malchut

From Keter to Binah, and Binah to Malchut

From Keter’s crown the light descends,

A giving flow that never bends,

Binah bows, it will not take,

Passive annulment, for Heaven’s sake.

“I need no gift, I seek no gain,

To be like You, I shun the chain,

Content to shine, content to bestow,

No hunger within, no urge below.”

But Malchut cries with burning need,

A vessel vast, a will to feed,

It cannot hide, it cannot stay,

Its heart must act, must find the way.

Active annulment, fire and fight,

To turn its darkness into light,

To use its hunger, not for “me,”

But lift it high, to “You” it’ll be.

So faith above what reason knows,

Through love of others, the river flows,

From crown to kingdom, the circle complete,

Annulment transforms the will’s deceit.

No lust, no wrath, no greed remain,

All turn to joy instead of pain,

In faith above, the souls arise,

Unconditional love now fills the skies.

Creators Image

when we build the image of the Creator in the ten,

it’s truth revealed, not a dream of men.

when friends unite and hearts ascend,

we speak of Him with no pretend.

the faith and love the Creator sends,

guide every step to holy ends.

His path is greatness, clear and vast,

through love of others wrath is cast.

anger fades when hearts repair,

lust transforms to a yearning prayer.

greed turns soft, a hunger to give,

in others’ joy we learn to live.

unconditional love, the highest light,

faith above reason, wings for flight.

together as one, our souls are drawn,

to the root of love where all is one.

Prayer of a Wounded Nation, Prayer of a Ten

Prayer of a Wounded Nation, Prayer of a Ten

The thieves sit high with hearts of stone,

they feast on flesh that’s not their own.

Insurance cheats, cartel chains,

a river of blood runs through our veins.

The widows cry, the children shake,

the righteous starve while tyrants take.

Their castles rise on stolen ground,

while justice sleeps and truth is bound.

Creator, I am torn apart,

a raging fire floods my heart.

I cannot fight them, I cannot win,

but in the Ten, we’ll rise again.

Take this fury, raw and wild,

this broken faith, this grieving child,

and weave it tight with threads of love,

to storm the gates of You above.

For only when our hearts unite,

the darkness cracks, reveals Your light.

No vengeance, Lord, no sword, no gun,

just one prayer beating, all as one.

So hear us now, we bleed, we bend,

but in connection, wounds will mend.

And all the lies, the chains, the shame,

will burn to ash inside Your flame.

Amen.

poem 6 Shamati + Psalms

Shamati 31 – Cleaving to the Light

Psalm 84 – How Lovely Is Your Dwelling Place

My soul’s desire: to cleave to Light,

To dwell where day outshines the night.

Through cracks of ego, glimpses gleam,

Of a home beyond the mortal dream.

“How lovely is,” the Psalm declares,

Your dwelling place — free from despairs.

Each heart united with Divine,

Finds rest in ways beyond time.

Not stone nor temple walls suffice,

But souls in union: pure, precise.

When ten hearts beat in unison,

The Highest Home in us is won.

We journey not for self but all,

Ascending where the lights recall,

Our sacred place of unity,

Where dwellings shine in sanctity.

Poem 5 Shamati + Psalms

Shamati 27 – Unification in the Ten

Psalm 133 – How Good and Pleasant

“How good and pleasant,” the Psalmist cried,

When brothers dwell with hearts untied.

Unity — not in words alone,

But in a soul where love is grown.

The Ten arise as mirrors true,

Reflecting self in each other’s view.

When ego fades, we find one goal:

To heal the heart, to cleanse the soul.

Like morning dew on Zion’s hills,

This union deeper meaning fills.

Our greatest ritual is not law,

But friendship’s bond that conquers flaw.

Together bound, together free,

Through giving self to harmony.

How good it is, how sweet the sound,

When Heaven’s breath on us is found.

Poem 4 Shamati + Psalms

Shamati 26 – The Inner Thought

Psalm 121 – I Lift Up My Eyes to the Hills

Each restless thought within my breast,

Seeks power, light, a fleeting rest.

Yet all thoughts rise, then fall away,

Unless the heart joins what we pray.

“I lift my eyes to hills,” he said,

But strength flows not from mount ahead.

The help I claim lies not in height,

But in shared breath, in friends’ delight.

Within the Ten, my soul takes flight,

When inner thought aligns with Light.

No lonely path, no distant call—

But unity that lifts us all.

Ever watchful, ever near,

The Inner Thought dissolves my fear.

Not in the peaks, but in the symphony,

Of hearts as one, in proximity.

Poem 3 Shamati + Psalms

Shamati 24 – He Will Save Them from the Hand of the Wicked

Psalm 51 – Create in Me a Clean Heart, O God

Ego prowls with cunning might,

Whispers chains into the night.

The wicked hand would tear apart,

But prayer breaks through a shattered heart.

“Create in me,” the Psalmist pleads,

“A heart made pure, a soul that bleeds.”

Not for myself, but for the Ten,

Renew my spirit once again.

The hand of the wicked — my will to receive,

It mocks, it tempts, it makes me grieve.

Yet when I fall, His mercy is near,

He saves, He lifts, He draws me clear.

O cleanse me deep, O hide Thy face,

Until I cling through friends’ embrace.

No sacrifice, no offering grand,

But a broken spirit in His hand.

He saves us still, His love imparts,

Through one pure cry — ten beating hearts.

Poem 2. Shamati + Psalms

Shamati 19 – What Is the Creator’s Honor in the Torah

Psalm 27 – The Lord Is My Light and My Salvation

My soul cries out, “What honor is His?”

Is it in wisdom, or knowledge, or bliss?

No — His glory dwells where hearts unite,

In vessels broken, we find His light.

“The Lord is my light,” the Psalmist sang,

Through trembling halls, his prayer out rang.

Salvation shines when self is gone,

When many become a single song.

The honor of Torah is not in the page,

But in hearts that annul, stage by stage.

I seek His beauty, I seek His face,

Through friends’ embrace, I find His grace.

Though armies rise, though doubts surround,

Within the Ten, His strength is found.

One desire — to dwell all days,

In the Creator’s house of endless praise.

Poem 1 combination of shamati and psalms in poem form

Shamati 1 – There Is None Else Besides Him

Psalm 23 – The Lord Is My Shepherd

When shadows fall and fear takes hold,

My ego whispers tales of old.

Yet in the dark, one truth I find,

No power but His shapes my mind.

He leads me down the valley deep,

Through tears I sow, through nights I weep.

Beside still waters, I hear His call,

“There is none else,” He rules it all.

The rod, the staff, they break my pride,

They wound my heart yet guard my side.

In the Ten, His table’s spread,

From bitter doubts to faith I’m fed.

Even when death’s shadow is near,

I find the Shepherd’s hand sincere.

No force but His — so I confess,

“There is none else,” my soul finds rest.

The Accuser's Dance

“The Accuser’s Dance”

It drags me low, whispers of gain,

My heart is torn by hunger and pain.

I fight alone, but always lose,

The serpent laughs at the paths I choose.

It rises high to the throne above,

Accusing me, denying love.

“You see?” it cries, “He cannot stand,

He builds on dust, not on holy land.”

I break, I fall, I cannot pretend,

Without my brothers there is no end.

But in the Ten, a spark ignites,

Together we wrestle the endless night.

First comes Hitbatlut—I bow my head,

My pride dissolves, my self is dead.

Then Hitkalelut—I weave with friends,

Their voices heal, the fracture mends.

And Hitpa’alut—their fire burns,

From their devotion, my soul returns.

The accuser flees, the cry takes flight,

A prayer is born in the heart’s twilight.

Now rise, my friends, as one we call,

Creator hears the plea of all.

From descent to ascent, the secret’s clear:

Through unity alone, the Light draws near.

The Three H’s in My Heart

The Three H’s in My Heart

In the silence I bow, my will undone,

Hitbatlut whispers: “You are none.”

I break on the stones of my stubborn pride,

The tears are rivers where I hide.

Yet in the Ten, a spark takes flight,

Hitkalalut blends my dark with light.

Inclusion burns, both wound and balm,

Their voices storm, then bring me calm.

But oh, the cries that tear my soul,

Faith demands I pay the toll.

Love is forged in suffering’s flame,

I lose myself to find His Name.

Hitpa’alut—enliven me still!

Through endless nights, a trembling will.

Pain is holy, faith is fire,

In this love, I rise higher.

So let me die a thousand ways,

And live anew through endless days.

In three H’s my spirit bends—

The path of sorrow that never ends.

Yet in that breaking, hearts are one,

A prayer complete, His will is done.

When Ego Yields

As I ready to lay my head at night,

I’m filled with visions of love and fright,

Not knowing whether to run and hide,

Or face the ego’s horrific pride.

I set my intention to only bestow,

It’s not about what you think you know

It’s how to turn all that wrath,

Into the steps of  faith’s path.

Through shadows deep my spirit bends,

Where brokenness secretly mends,

Each tear a prayer, each sigh a song,

That lifts me to where I belong.

So let me rise above despair,

With every breath, a whispered prayer,

Till all the night is bathed in light,

And ego yields to love’s true might.

The Storm and the Kiss

The Storm and the Kiss

I lit a candle, small and weak,

The storm just laughed: “That’s not what you seek.”

It blew it out with a wicked grin,

“Come closer, fool, the game begins.”

---

My lust stood tall with hungry eyes,

Promising flesh, forgetting skies.

It whispered hot, “Forget His name,

There’s sweeter fire, there’s easier flame.”

But pain arrived, a faithful thief,

It robbed my rest, it tore belief.

Still, in the wound, a voice was near,

“Through broken bones, My Light appears.”

---

Suffering dressed in bridal white,

Danced with me deep into the night.

A kiss of salt, a whip of flame,

Yet every lash still cried Your name.

---

And humor came, drunk clown of fate,

He tripped me hard at heaven’s gate.

I cursed, I laughed, the angels cheered,

The demons bowed, the storm grew weird.

---

Creator, You sly comedian, You,

You wound with left, then heal with blue.

You tempt, You trick, You strike, You shove,

Yet all is stitched with secret love.

---

For though I fall, I still adore,

The lips that wound, the hands that war.

The thunder breaks, the lightning burns,

But in its eye—Your mercy turns.

---

So storm me, bind me, mock my cry,

I’ll love You still until I die.

Through lust and laughter, pain and shame,

My soul is Yours, through fire, through flame.

And when I drown, or rise above,

I’ll storm with You, my storm of love.

The Ten as Sefirot

Ten friends together, one circle of flame,

Each shines a facet, though none are the same.

One gives with kindness, another with might,

Together they weave the Creator’s Light.

Alone we are fragments, confused and apart,

But joined we discover one vessel, one heart.

Like colors refracting through sapphire’s face,

We fashion a prism for infinite grace.

At times I am Hod, in silence I bend,

At times I am Netzach, determined to end.

Another is Tiferet, harmonies blend,

Malchut receives all that upward we send.

No friend is complete in the work on his own,

But each is a Sefira, a spark that is sown.

And when we unite with no self in between,

The Light of the Infinite fills us unseen.

So bind us together, O Father above,

Correct us through mercy, through strength, and through love.

Let ten become one, as Your wisdom has taught,

A soul made of Sefirot, living and wrought.

The Hidden Script

Ancient names carved in clay and stone,

Anunnaki, angels—forces unknown.

Were they beings, or codes in disguise,

Programs of will in the Creator’s eyes?

They whisper through myths, through temples and scrolls,

Of life once vast, of unmeasured souls.

Yet sages declare with a steady hand,

It’s not gods of earth, but the One command.

Our bodies hold letters, a silent song,

DNA scripts that sleep for long.

Experts call it “junk,” yet others say,

It hides our powers, locked away.

But no hand of Thoth, nor science’s key,

Can force the gates of eternity.

For these strands awaken when hearts align,

In love of another, the light will shine.

Kinetic gifts, a prophetic sight,

Are sparks revealed in the upper light.

Not tricks for the self, but tools to restore,

The bond of the soul to its root once more.

So seek not the gods of forgotten lands,

But gather your brothers, join hands.

For only in love, the sages say clear,

The dormant awakens, the angels appear.

From a Seeker’s View

I stood before the Pharaoh in me,

His voice was sharp, his words cut free:

“Who is the Lord that you should serve?

Your longing’s weak, your will has no nerve.”

I turned, I fought, I pushed through the night,

Yet another arose to weaken my sight:

Sihon and Og, they whispered within,

“Israel in you is too frail to win.

The goal is high, the path is steep,

Leave it to others, their roots run deep.

You’re small, unworthy, a broken flame,

Why dare to walk the Creator’s name?”

Between their words my heart grew tight,

I felt no strength, no spark, no light.

Yet a whisper stirred, so soft, so near:

“Above all reason, the truth is clear.

No might, no power, no lion’s roar,

But faith alone can open the door.

The hand of the Creator lifts the weak,

And gives the words my soul must speak.

So I walk in trust, though blind I go,

Above the heart, above what I know.

For He alone can break their rod,

And guide my steps to the path of God.”

The Torah is an Indication

The Torah’s not stories carved in stone,

It’s a whisper inside, a path to the Throne.

It points to the heart where the shadows reside,

And shines with a Light that corrects us inside.

We read not for wisdom, nor tales to adore,

But to summon a force that can open the door.

The ego resists, it laughs, “Not today!”

Yet the Light says, “My child, I’ll show you the way.”

The Torah’s an indication, not the prize we hold,

It’s the lamp in the night, turning iron to gold.

With friends by our side, in unity’s flame,

We rewrite our nature, we’re no longer the same.

So with humor and pain, with longing and song,

We chase not the stories we’ve carried so long.

But the Light that reforms, that teaches to give,

In love of the other—we start to truly live.

In the Fog We Find the Light

My head is a storm, my thoughts are unclear,

The path disappears, yet the friends are near.

Confusion is heavy, it bends me low,

But the Light hides inside the “I don’t know.”

I cannot clean the mind with my hands of clay,

So I give it to You, take the fog away.

Not for myself do I ask to be bright,

But to build us a vessel that shines with Your Light.

The Ten is my compass, the stars in my sky,

Without them I stumble, I fail, and I cry.

So I cling to their hearts, though my reason may fall,

Above all the noise—I hear Your call.

So let this confusion become my prayer,

A cry from the depths that rises in air.

Correct this vessel, broken and small,

Unite us together—and dwell in us all.

The Society’s Song

I thought I could climb to the heavens alone,

But my ego just laughed with a heart made of stone.

Each step that I took, I fell twice as deep,

Till the friends came around and pulled me from sleep.

The world says, “Take more!”—it shouts with a grin,

But the heart knows the truth: that’s the root of our sin.

So I sit with my brothers, their fire my light,

In the heat of their love, my soul takes its flight.

When one heart grows weary and falls to the ground,

The others rush quickly, they circle around.

For sparks join as one till a bonfire’s born,

And together we rise through the night and the morn.

It hurts to let go of the “I” that I love,

It feels like I’m torn by the heavens above.

Yet laughter breaks out through the sorrow and pain,

For losing myself is the truest of gain.

The Creator hides not in the sky or the sea,

But in bonds between hearts, in the love of the we.

So I’ll cling to my friends, for it’s here I can see,

That the place of the Lord is our sweet unity.

the world is filled with such self love

even though we know its all from above

the war we are fighting deep with in

to ignore it in truth is a sin

so unite together ones heart and soul

all to pay tribute to the one that is whole

so rise above the fleeting flame

forget the honor, forget the name

hold the friends as your living prayer

for the Creator is hidden there

with laughter, sorrow, joy, and pain

we weave one song, one sweet refrain

to give, not take, is our only role

united as one, we form one soul

The Battle Within

Inside my chest a war is waged,

Israel’s spark feels small and caged.

The nations roar, they want it all,

While Israel whispers, fragile, small.

The ego laughs, “You’ll never win,

I’ve got desire, thick as sin!”

But Israel clings with trembling might,

To faith above, beyond the sight.

The Torah’s light, a hidden sword,

It lifts the spark toward its Lord.

Not to destroy, but to transform,

The nations bend, their will reform.

At times I fall, they take the crown,

The klipot dance and drag me down.

But from the ten, a hand extends,

“Get up, you fool! Connect to friends!”

In love and pain I rise once more,

Through laughter, tears, the heart is sore.

The spark of Israel, though so slight,

Can summon heaven’s endless light.

So let the nations mock and jeer,

The path is narrow, sharp, severe—

Yet through the suffering, joy is sown,

For Israel’s seed is not my own.

It is the Creator, dwelling deep,

Awakening hearts that long to weep.

And in that cry, the nations fall—

The spark of Israel rules them all.

"The Bridge of Baal HaSulam"

I walked with pockets full of dreams,

And shoes with holes that leaked in streams.

The path was steep, the sky was torn,

I cursed the day that I was born.

Then came a man with eyes of flame,

Who called my sorrow out by name.

He said, “Child, your grief’s not random fate,

It’s bait to pull you to Heaven’s gate.”

He laughed at my pride, and slapped my despair,

Said, “The Creator put both in your hair.

One’s to lift, the other to bend,

Both are tools to reach the end.”

“The world,” he said, “is a crooked hall,

With mirrors that trick and shadows that call.

But if you link arms, all hearts as one,

You’ll find the doorway back to the Sun.”

And so we walk, in mud and in light,

Some days we stumble, some nights we fight.

But oh, when a friend takes your burden to bear—

You feel the Creator already there.

So thank you, Rav, for the map and the song,

For showing the weak where the strong belong.

In the end we will laugh at the pain we have known,

For all of it carved us into His own.

🎭 Poem: "Elul Blues (The Ballad of the Brokenhearted Beloved)"

Style: Bitter-sweet blues with a wink of holy foolishness

---

I woke up in Elul with a heart full of holes,

My coffee was bitter, my soul felt old.

“I am my Beloved’s,” I tried to recite—

But my Wi-Fi was down and the Light was in flight.

I put on my tefillin and sang a sad song,

"Where are You, Beloved? What took You so long?"

But the heavens were silent, just like my phone,

And the will to receive said, “You’re on your own.”

I danced with my sorrow, my pain wore a grin,

My ego laughed, “He won’t let you in!”

Still, I knocked and I cried, with a love that won’t quit—

And the answer came back: “You ain’t earned it yet.”

So I fasted from reason, feasted on faith,

Marinated my heart in a doubt-laced wraith.

Each mitzvah I did with a tear and a joke,

Like grilling a steak with no meat or smoke.

“I’ll love You,” I whispered, “though I’m broke and bruised,

Though my vessels are shattered, and my soul's confused.

I give You this mess, all cracked and flawed,

Because You, my Beloved, are still my God.”

Then a whisper returned through the silence and ache,

Like a breeze through the ruins that never quite break.

“My beloved,” it hummed, “you remembered the call—

And I was beside you through pain and through fall.”

So I’m back in the work with a limp and a grin,

Elul’s my rehab for shedding old skin.

The sorrow still bites, the humor still stings—

But love is a ladder that pain sometimes brings.

The Soul’s Stumbling Waltz

Oh, soul, you clumsy spark of light,

Dropped from the heavens, a comical sight!

You tripped on a star, fell into this clay,

Now stuck in a body, you grumble all day.

“Why this mess?” you moan with a frown,

This world’s a circus, and I’m the clown!

(Humor’s the balm when the ego’s a pain,

You laugh through the mud, or you’ll go insane.)

Love calls you softly, a whisper, a flame,

“Connect with the others, forget your own name!”

Baal HaSulam nods from his perch in the sky,

“Give up your ‘me,’ and your soul will fly high.”

You try, oh you try, with a heart full of care,

But your neighbor’s loud snoring? Too much to bear!

Yet love’s the glue, the spark, the divine,

It stitches the world with a thread so fine.

Sorrow creeps in, like a thief in the night,

The soul feels the fracture, the absence of light.

You chase fleeting pleasures, but they slip away,

Like sand through your fingers, they just won’t stay.

“Why this longing?” you cry, with a tear-streaked face,

This world feels too heavy, too cruel a place.

Baal HaSulam whispers, “That pain’s your guide,

It points to the truth you’ve buried inside.”

Pain, oh the pain, it’s the ego’s sharp sting,

Each selfish desire pulls a tight, bitter string.

But here’s the secret, the Kabbalist’s art:

The hurt’s just a map to your wandering heart.

Trade “I” for “we,” let your soul take the leap,

Find joy in the giving, though the climb may be steep.

With a wink and a sigh, you’ll laugh at the strain,

For love heals the sorrow, and light soothes the pain.

So dance, little soul, through this wild, messy show,

With humor to lighten, and love’s gentle glow.

Sorrow and pain are your teachers, your friends,

They carve out the path where the ego’s reign ends.

Baal HaSulam smiles, his ladder in view,

“Climb, spark of Light—your Creator waits for you!”