shamati 99 a poem

 

Born a fool, with no flame in the night,

No hunger for wisdom, no yearning for Light—

The drop is decreed, “weakling, fool,” so it seems,

Condemned to the dust, to a life without dreams.

Yet the Creator, in mercy, He scattered the seeds,

Planted the righteous to answer our needs.

For alone we are ashes, corpses that rot,

But beside the great ones, new powers are caught.

The fool has no vessel, no craving, no fight,

But he cleaves to the righteous—receives their delight.

What I lack from my birth, I inherit through them,

As a beggar made king in Jerusalem.

Without them, my Torah is poison, a knife,

But with them it blossoms and gives me true life.

So wicked or righteous is not in the bone,

It’s chosen in love, it’s chosen in home.

So I fall on my face, in weakness I cry,

“Friends, lift me upward, don’t let me die!”

And the Creator replies with a whisper above:

“You are righteous through them… through faith, through love.”

 In the womb of our love hides a truth yet concealed,

Our ego screams loudly, refusing to yield.

It whispers, “You’re nothing, you’ll fail and you’ll fall,”

It builds up a tower, then crushes it all.

Alone we are broken, confused and deceived,

No hope in the heart, no faith to believe.

The mind runs in circles, the soul turns to stone,

Each step that we take feels colder, alone.

But then—like a spark in the dark of the night,

The heart cracks wide open and lets in the Light.

The friends stand beside us, their hands interlaced,

The fire of love burns the ego erased.

And there in the center, the secret is shown:

One heart, one desire, one truth we’ve been shown.

The path of the Ten, the Creator’s own art,

His love beats eternal in one united heart.

Through Hitbatlut — we bow and annul,

Through Hitkalelut — we mix, heart and soul.

Through Hitpa’alut — His Light floods apart,

One breath, one desire, one love, one heart