Psalms In The Heart

  A war was born where silence screams, Inside the soul that splits its dreams. The right hand prays, the left hand steals, The heart forgets what the spirit feels. The Kauravas rise — a hundred lies, Each one born where the ego cries. They promise gold, they promise fame, But every crown burns with shame. The Pandavas stand — the will to bestow, Five senses cleansed by the light they know. They tremble still, for truth cuts deep, The self must die before souls can reap. Arjuna weeps, his bow hangs low, “How can I strike the ones I know?” Krishna smiles — the secret revealed, “You never kill — you only yield.” “For bodies fall, but the soul can’t fade, It was by love that all was made. Fight not for gain, nor fear the loss, Your sword is faith, your shield is cross.” “Act without fruit, let go of the claim, See Me in all, and all the same. When giver and gift no longer part, The war will end inside your heart.” The chariot rolled on sand and flame, Each wheel carved out the ...

“The Low Will See” They mock and sneer as I walk by, Their words cut deep, yet I don’t cry. For in the dust where I am thrown, The King of Kings makes me His own. He lifts not those who boast and shine, But souls that break to match His line. The proud look down and lose their sight, The low look up and see the Light. My crown is crushed beneath their feet, My name erased—His will complete. For when I die to self and fame, The Lord Himself will call my name. Let them despise, reject, and scorn, From their contempt, new life is born. The Lord is high—He hides from pride, But dwells within the ones denied. So strip me bare, remove my face, Until I’m clothed in His embrace. The high stand far, the low will see— In dust and shame, He dwells in me.