Expanding Consciouness

Expanding Consciousness

by William S. Becker

I was trapped inside this skin of clay,

My thoughts just echoed what they’d say.

A mirror cracked, reflecting pain,

Yet through the shards, Love called my name.

The world I saw was small and tight,

My truth was bound by self-made night.

But in that dark, a spark did start,

A whispered pulse inside my heart.

I reached for You through friends and tears,

Through years of doubts and silent fears.

Each wall I broke was made of me,

Each fall unmasked what I could see.

You taught me how to rise above,

To change my sight through acts of love.

The more I gave, the more I knew,

That You and I were never two.

Now every breath expands the whole,

Each friend a doorway to my soul.

Our hearts entwined, no more defense,

This Love — our shared omnipresence.

So take my mind, my will, my place,

Dissolve them in Your boundless grace.

For consciousness, I’ve come to find,

Is Love revealing the One behind.

What Are WE

 I asked the Question "If our eye's don't see and our ear's don't hear and our noise doesn't smell then what are we?  And this is what came out...

What Are We

We have eyes that don’t see and ears that don’t hear,

We walk through the garden but nothing is clear.

The scent of the holy is lost in the air,

A noise with no fragrance, a heart unaware.

We’re vessels half-fashioned—desire undone,

A room full of candles that’s missing the sun.

Great treasures within us we fail to reveal,

For we measure the world by what we can feel.

Yet feeling deceives when it serves only me,

It blinds and it binds and it fails to let be.

So we stumble in darkness, convinced we are right,

Claiming we see—while rejecting the Light.

But Faith Above Reason—the step past our sight—

This turns the dark valley to morning’s first light.

Not faith to believe some comforting lie,

But faith to rise higher than senses can try.

To trust in the friends when the ego says flee,

To build a new vision no eyes ever see.

To ask the Creator to help us ascend,

From “I understand” to “I rise with my friend.”

For reason is fine—but it serves the old throne,

The king called “myself,” who stands there alone.

Yet faith is the bridge to a world built on Love,

A ladder of Jacob descending above.

So what are we now? A shattered design—

A vessel that leaks till the cracks all align.

But what we become is the joy of His Will:

A heart made for giving, united and still.

Eyes then will open, ears then will hear,

The scent of His presence will draw us near.

We’ll live in one heartbeat, one soul, one man—

As Love fills the vessel where emptiness began.

What Is a Prayer

When the prayer is formed from the broken heart

Because it's with the ego you wish to part

No words from the mouth or mind

Can reveal what’s hidden behind

It’s the silent cry beneath the breath

The plea that lives between life and death

Where the soul admits it cannot stand

And reaches out with trembling hand

For the Creator does not hear the tongue

Not the songs so cleverly sung

He hears the shatter, the crack, the tear

The place where pride dissolves to prayer

When the heart breaks open wide

When the self has nowhere left to hide

Then the upper light begins to flow

For only then can we truly let go

A broken heart is the door we cross

Where we finally accept our helpless loss

And in that collapse, that humbled fall

We feel Him answering us all.

Heaven Quiet Embrace

If the right attracts and the left repels,

The right is heaven, the left is hell.

But both are threads the One hand weaves,

The push that breaks, the pull that breathes.

The right says, "Come, My love, return,"

The left says, "Burn until you learn."

Two forces striking one same heart,

One to mend and one to part.

For heaven isn’t joy alone,

It’s the place where we let go of “my own.”

And hell’s not fire or endless night,

It’s the shame of being far from the Light.

So I stand between the two that tear—

One lifts with love, one strips me bare.

And only when both live in me

Can the heart break open and finally see.

Heaven is bestowal, a quiet embrace.

Hell is the fury of self I must face.

But both are the steps on the same narrow stair—

And I climb, with my brothers, in one single prayer.

Birth The Light

The life we live is a funny thing

Feeling one’s heart as it sings

Songs of love and hate collide,

Two rivers raging side-by-side.

One pulls soft, like morning rain,

The other burns with hidden pain.

We learn to give, then hesitate—

To rise above, then bow to fate.

Oh how we walk this razor line,

Between the beast and the divine.

To hold the blow, yet still embrace,

To vanish me and make Him place.

For love without the hate is weak,

And hate without the love is bleak.

The two are forged inside our chest,

So we may find the One Who’s best.

I break, I mend, I fall, I stand—

Each step not mine, but by His hand.

The opposites in me unite:

Dark becomes fuel, to birth the Light.

Heart Made New

Heart Made New

The right love doesn't hide

It cuts you open from inside

It burns the lies you held so dear

And whispers, “Brother, I am here.”

It isn't soft, it isn't kind

It drags the ego out the mind

It tears the heart, but leaves it whole

It carves a vessel from the soul

It throws you down so you can kneel

So faith above the reason’s real

It breaks the walls you built for years

And washes you with silent tears

In the ten, this love is born

From every fall, from every scorn

We learn to rise, to bend, to give

To die each day — and yet to live

The right love doesn’t let you stay

Inside your self, locked far away

It lifts you into one shared breath

Where “I” dissolves a holy death

So take my heart, Creator, please

The Place The Knife Opens

I woke with a hole where my chest used to be,

An emptiness screaming like oceans in me.

No answer, no comfort, no wisdom to find—

Just a silence that claws at the edges of mind.

I begged for relief, for a reason, a light,

For someone to tell me I’m doing this right.

But the heavens stayed quiet, the floor fell away,

And I learned that the void is where He wants me to pray.

This pain isn’t punishment, loss, or mistake—

It’s the hunger He carves so my soul will awake.

For the cup that is empty is ready to fill,

And the heart that is broken can learn to be still.

So I stand here with nothing, with no place to land,

And I stretch out my wounds like a child with his hand.

Fill me, my Father, with love from above—

For this brutal is holy, and it’s covered in love.

The Creator's Embrace

As society breaks apart

They'll need to know how to start

Living this life anew

Without the problems that went askew

My heart bleeds for the Creator's love

Forgetting how to rise above

Sometimes i don't know if i am coming or going

In the storm, the pain keeps growing

I scream in silence to the empty air

Wondering if anyone is truly there

My chest feels heavy like it's caving in

Dragging the memory of every sin

I love the ten but my ego fights

Claws in my throat in sleepless nights

One breath of love, then poison thought

Each step forward feels like i'm caught

But still i drag myself back to the flame

Calling the Creator's endless name

Tear-stained prayers mixed with trembling rage

Trying to write love on a burning page

I don't want peace if it's empty and cold

I want a heart that the ten can hold

I want to burn, to break, to fall

If that's what it takes to love through it all

So take my confusion, take my spite

Take the war I wage each endless night

Hold me in the space between despair and grace

Until i vanish from myself

Leaving only Your embrace

The World Ain't Closing In

 

“The World Ain’t Closing In”

by William S. Becker

Some days it feels the world caves in,

Like walls that press beneath the skin.

My thoughts, they scatter, twist, and shout,

While faith fights hard to drown them out.

Old memories knock — they want a seat,

They whisper shame and half-defeat.

But I ain’t buying what they sell,

I’ve walked through worse, and walked it well.

For G-D don’t like the ugly lie,

That says “give up” or “don’t even try.”

He built this soul with stubborn flame,

That laughs at darkness — calls it by name.

I talk to Him through smoke and tears,

Through quiet hopes and hidden fears.

He smiles, I know, through every test,

And whispers, “Son, just do your best.”

So let the thoughts parade and spin,

They can’t shake what I hold within.

For I was made to ride the storm,

To break, then bloom, to fall, transform.

And when I’m old — say one-four-zero,

Still fighting ego like a hero,

I’ll grin and say, “That Light was mine —

It burned through hell, but stayed divine.”

The Purpose of Society

 The Purpose of Society

I came with dreams of holy light,

Instead I found my inner blight.

The “friends” were mirrors, sharp and clear,

Each one exposing what I fear.

I wanted love, I got a knife,

That carved the corpse I called my life.

They smiled and said, “This pain’s your cure,”

I bled in faith I’d stay impure.

My heart screamed, “Why can’t I just be free?”

The echo roared, “Die — that’s unity!”

Every word they spoke was salt in my wound,

Till pride and reason lay entombed.

Then slowly, softly, Light drew near,

Not to reward — but to make me hear.

That every bruise was carved by grace,

To make a vessel — not erase.

I saw the purpose — not to rise,

But to fall into my brother’s eyes.

There in that gaze, the world turned whole,

The Creator whispered — “This is your soul.”

So I walk this path of shattered skin,

To find His face engraved within.

Brutal mercy, wrapped in flame,

No self remains — just His Name.

The Blindmans Crown

 

💔🔥 Poem — “The Blindman’s Crown

I walk with eyes that never see, yet claim the dawn as mine,

I taste the ash, but call it sweet, and drink the dark as wine.

The mind cries out, “You fool! You’re lost!” — the flesh begins to sneer,

But still I bow before the void and whisper, “You are here.”

My faith’s a bleeding knuckle fight, my prayer a broken bone,

I bite the dust with grateful lips and call this pain my own.

Each doubt’s a nail, each fear a cross — yet love still takes its turn,

The fire burns me into dust, the dust begins to burn.

I walk through wrath and judgment’s womb — the soul’s small Ibur cry,

A child of rage becoming peace beneath the blackened sky.

For every thought that drags me down, I lift it up above,

And find within its bitter weight the tender weight of love.

No sin remains, no fall’s in vain, no darkness undesigned,

Each bruise becomes the alphabet the Light will read in kind.

So let me crawl in blindness still, let reason’s voice disown,

For faith above all knowledge builds the heart into a throne.

The Thought That Serves The Flame

💔🔥 “The Thought That Serves the Flame”

by William S. Becker

A thought’s no king—it’s just a slave,

To serve the want, the beast, the crave.

It dances blind at desire’s command,

Building the castle that ego planned.

I think because my heart demands,

Its hunger sculpted by unseen hands.

Each dream I chase, each fear I feed,

Was born from what I think I need.

The mind’s a liar cloaked in grace,

It bows to hunger’s masked embrace.

But if I fix my gaze above,

That same fire burns with holy love.

So day and night I till this ground,

Where selfish seeds in dust are found.

I water them with thought so pure,

Till only His desire endures.

Then thought becomes the chariot bright,

Desire transformed into endless Light.

And what was “me” dissolves at last—

A slave no more, but free and vast.

The Screen That Burns

“The Screen That Burns”

The Light once filled my foolish clay,

Then fled — the night replaced the day.

It wasn’t gone — it struck from near,

Till all my veils dissolved in fear.

The clash inside — oh holy fight,

Between my dark and His pure Light.

Each wound, a polish; each loss, a climb,

The pain that purges space from time.

My will — the beast — it never rose,

It stayed below, in grave repose.

But something higher shed its skin,

The screen refined — the war within.

I lost my crown, the Keter’s flame,

No robe remained to bear that Name.

Yet in that loss, I found release,

For ashes sing when souls find peace.

So burn me, Lord, refine my shield,

Till all my pride to You is healed.

Let vessels weep, but screens ascend,

Through shattered love, I reach my end.

Rewarded- I Will Hasten It (From shamati 195)

I had it once — the taste of light,

Then stripped away deep in the night.

The glow was gone, my heart was torn,

And faith was born where I was shorn.

He gave me gold, then took the key,

To show me what I’d yearn to be.

He built my hunger, carved my pain,

So I could call His loss a gain.

Each tear I shed became my bowl,

Each break engraved upon my soul.

The rich are blind, but beggars see —

The empty heart becomes the sea.

So rip me open, burn me bare,

I’ll find You only in despair.

For every wound reveals Your face,

And loss itself becomes embrace.

Let others choose the easier way,

I’ll take the blows that make me pray.

Through shattered glass Your stars ignite —

Rewarded — You will hasten light.

The Womb of Lack

“The Womb of Lack”

I build my house on hollow ground,

each prayer a whisper, a broken sound.

I lift my eyes, but see no King,

still chant His Name as if it’s spring.

I talk of love with lips of stone,

the words are His, but not my own.

I beg for faith, yet cheat the night,

pretend I’ve seen the hidden light.

He hides to show how blind I stay,

He wounds to teach me how to pray.

He breaks my heart till cracks appear,

then pours His mercy through my fear.

So curse this void that burns my chest,

this hunger proves I’m not at rest.

If I could die before His throne,

I’d find the life that feels like home.

O Lord, reveal what I don’t feel—

my barren heart, my rusted zeal.

For only one who knows he’s weak,

is strong enough the King to seek.

And till I stand where angels kneel,

I’ll love the wound that will not heal.

For in that pain, Your Name is sewn—

my lack, my grave, my stepping stone.

Even The Unworthy Are Heard

📜 "Even the Unworthy Are Heard"

(Inspired by Shamati 113 – “The Eighteen Prayer”)

They say He hears each mouth that prays,

Yet mercy seals what He conveys.

Then what of cries that lack the grace—

Do they just vanish into space?

A twisted path, this narrow gate,

Where love and judgment intertwine with fate.

One moment lifted, next laid low—

The opposites are all we know.

To be so humble we disappear,

Yet roar with truth when friends draw near.

To bow before the least of men,

Yet hold the world and start again.

Our words may fail, intentions rot,

But still He hears—no soul forgot.

The filth, the pride, the broken pleas,

He drinks them all like storm-tossed seas.

This is the weight, the work, the song—

To know we're weak, yet still belong.

To cry with lips that once deceived—

And be embraced, though not believed.

So if you find your prayer denied,

Or mercy masked, or hope has died—

Know this, dear heart: He bends His ear

Most close to those who drown in fear.

Heart of the Ten

 In the heart of the Ten, where the frequencies blend,

We’re transmitters, receivers, on a path with no end.

In the dance of desires, from the surface we rise,

Trading ego’s illusions for love’s truer prize.

Oh my brothers, my sisters, in this sacred embrace,

We are tuning our hearts to a higher place.

Every thought that we shift from the self to the whole,

Is a step toward the One, the correction of soul.

For the glory of the Creator is the end of our quest,

In the love we uncover, in the trials we’re blessed.

We are builders of bridges from the will to receive,

To a realm of pure giving, where only love we believe.

So here is our mission, our journey so vast,

To transform every moment as we hold each other fast.

In the heart of the Ten, in the love that we lend,

We find the Creator, our beginning and end.

The Record in the Heart

 

“The Record in the Heart”

The light once burned through me, pure and clean,

Then vanished—left me raw, unseen.

The echo carved its name inside,

A scar of love that will not hide.

I reached for Him with trembling hand,

He pulled away—so I could stand.

For vessels form when lights withdraw,

The pain itself becomes the law.

Each record whispers, “Try again,”

Each fall reveals the heart of man.

The sweetness gone, the hunger stays,

And drives my soul through endless days.

The first look crowned me with delight,

The second stripped me bare at night.

From what He took, the vessel grew—

An emptiness both sharp and true.

So now I live on holy ache,

A shattered heart for Heaven’s sake.

I learn to read what tears have signed—

The Reshimo etched in heart and mind.

Until at last the light will see,

A mirror shining back at Thee.

The broken record starts to sing—

“I’m nothing, yet I hold everything.”

The Rope and the Heart

“The Rope and the Heart” 

I reached for light with hands of clay,

But grabbed for self along the way.

The rope You threw I failed to keep,

It burned my palms, I fell too deep.

You gave me Torah—fire and thread,

To stitch the soul the ego bled.

Each Mitzva done for love, not gain,

Becomes the cure for all my pain.

I was a limb cut from Your chest,

Beating alone, without the rest.

But when I give, the pulse returns,

And every wound inside me burns.

To serve my Rav, to love my friend,

That’s where the walls begin to bend.

Their greatness feeds the flame in me,

Till “I” dissolves in unity.

I shrink below, they rise above,

And crush my pride with holy love.

In multitude, the King is crowned,

His glory shines where hearts are bound.

Bestowal kills what pride defends,

Yet lifts me higher when self ends.

The rope is fire, the climb is pain,

But each scar sings—He lives again.

So take me, Lord, and tear apart,

This will of stone that guards my heart.

Make all my giving burn and start—

Till I am You, and You my heart.

The Dream Within The One

 

🔥 “The Dream Within the One” 🔥

---

I walk through this world like smoke in His breath,

Every heartbeat a spark from the furnace of death.

Eyes wide open, yet seeing a lie,

A painted illusion on the walls of the sky.

He dreamt me in silence, in mercy, in fire,

A thought within thought, wrapped in desire.

I scream “I exist!” — but who hears the call?

The echo returns: It was Me all along, after all.

Each pain that I curse is His tender disguise,

Each fall that I fear — a hand helping me rise.

He hides in the dust, in the sweat, in the tear,

Whispering softly, “Awaken, I’m here.”

The dream is so cruel, so sweet, so insane,

I kiss the thorn just to feel the pain.

Because in the ache, the mask starts to fall,

And I see — there was never a “me” at all.

The Ten stands as pillars in this infinite mist,

Brothers of flame that the void cannot resist.

Together we wake, through the storm and the scars,

And find we were sleeping inside the stars.

So tear me apart, Beloved Divine,

Crush this illusion till Your light is mine.

For in Your dream, I burned and I bled —

And in awakening — I rise from the dead.

CALL UPON HIM WHEN HE IS NEAR

🔥 CALL UPON HIM WHEN HE IS NEAR 🔥

---

I stood in a forest of teeth and breath,

where shadows eat prayers and love smells like death.

The beasts inside me—fanged with need—

gnawed on every holy seed.

I screamed for silence, tore my chest,

found nothing there but unrest.

Then a whisper cracked my skull apart:

“You didn’t call Me—I called your heart.”

---

You think it’s you that yearns, that pleads,

but it’s Me that bleeds through your deeds.

Each tear you shed is My descent,

each cry of yours—My covenant.

You never prayed alone, My son,

you only echoed what I’d begun.

When you thought it was your might, your climb,

I withdrew—and left you lost in time.

---

Now you curse the light that fades too fast,

you chase your echoes, shadows cast.

But I was there in that brief flame,

whispering softly your forgotten Name.

When I am near, you’ll feel the ache,

the trembling earth, the heart that breaks.

Don’t reason it—don’t think, don’t plan,

just fall, and know “It’s Me, not man.”

---

So when you wake at 3 A.M.,

and love hurts more than sin again,

don’t drown it out, don’t wipe the tear—

Call upon Me—I am near.

And when I vanish into your doubt,

and all your candles flicker out—

remember this, My only plea:

You never sought—

It was always Me.

Black Dot Rising

💔🔥 “Black Dot Rising”

I walk in black where angels hide,

no glow, no guide, just pain inside.

The light has fled, the songs are gone,

and still the night keeps dragging on.

I bite the dust, I curse the flame,

my ego screams and takes the blame.

Yet deep beneath that broken skin,

the smallest spark still burns within.

The dot is black, but fierce its hue,

it whispers low, “I’m still in you.”

No white remains, no shining crown,

but from this dark the soul kneels down.

I serve through tears that never cease,

in war I fight to find my peace.

Each fall, each cut, each silent cry,

becomes a prayer that lights the sky.

Don’t chase the glow that comes then fades,

the real work’s done in hidden shades.

For when the world says “you’re forgot,”

the Shechina breathes inside that spot.

So let me bleed and call it grace,

the pain’s the kiss I can’t erase.

From blackest night the dawn will start—

the dot of dust becomes His heart.