For Those Who Are Searching

For Those Who Are Searching

I searched for truth without a name,

Just knowing something felt the same.

The world explained, but never knew

The questions burning straight through.

I read the signs, I watched the stars,

Heard whispered truths from tarot cards.

I chased the hidden, chased the deep,

Through things awake and things asleep.

I healed with hands, I breathed in forms,

Learned how to stand inside the storms.

I fought, I flowed, I learned control,

Still felt a hunger in my soul.

Each path gave light, each path gave taste,

But something vital went to waste.

Because the center stayed as me,

The will to take, not truly see.

I didn’t know what I was missing,

Just felt the ache that kept insisting.

I wasn’t lost — I just was blind

To what was asking from behind.

Truth wasn’t hidden in the sky,

Nor found by asking “who am I?”

It waited where I wouldn’t look —

Where I must give, not merely took.

I didn’t find it by demand,

It came when I let go my hand.

When “why” grew tired of being fed,

And bowed instead of raising head.

So if you’re searching, worn and sore,

And nothing satisfies anymore —

Don’t quit, don’t settle, don’t despair,

Your lack is proof you’re almost there.

You’re not confused, you’re not too late,

You’re standing at a certain gate.

Not one you enter by belief,

But by releasing self-conceit.

Truth isn’t something you can chase,

It meets you when you change your place.

When what you seek is no longer for you,

That’s when the truth starts seeking you.

What Does It Take

What Does It Take

Once upon a time,
without reason or rhyme,
people would sit and discuss,
no arguments, no fuss.

But then something changed,
like the world rearranged,
opinions turned into knives,
everyone fighting for their lives.

Now instead of conversation,
there’s outright hate—no illumination,
every word a loaded gun,
no one listening to anyone.

So what does it take
to come back to that place,
where sharing a vision or view
isn’t a crime for walking through?

I don’t understand why it’s this way,
maybe we forgot how to pray—
forgot that truth is not a win,
it’s what lets the light back in.

Give It Away

“Give It Away”

I remember You before I had a name

Before this dust, before this shame

A whisper carved inside my chest

A love I knew, then lost, then left

You filled me whole, no crack, no seam

No “I” or “You,” just One unseen

Then something shattered deep inside

And I woke up alone… alive

This world—an abyss, cold and wide

Where memory burns but won’t subside

I walk with sparks I cannot claim

Reshimot screaming Your old name

I reach for You in every face

But find the lack, not Your embrace

The more I take, the more I break

The more I beg, the less I make

I curse the fall, I curse the day

I curse this heart that won’t obey

Yet even rage is stitched with pain

Because loss proves love once reigned

You hid Yourself so I could see

What love costs when it’s not free

You broke me not to watch me crawl

But so I’d learn to love through all

Now hear me from this shattered place

I don’t ask back what time erased

I don’t demand You fill my cup

I’ve learned—love rises when I give it up

So I take this ache, this holy scar

And offer it just as we are

To every soul I once was part

To every broken, missing heart

If there’s something I want to know

Something I want to feel and grow

Like that old Texas truth I found—

You give it away… or it won’t come around

So take my love, Creator mine

Not upward—sideways, friend to friend

Let it pass through these hands of dust

Until all fragments trust again

And when the last lost spark feels whole

And love flows back without control

We won’t say “You” and “me” apart—

Just One… remembering the heart

Satisfied With What You Gave

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“Satisfied With What You Gave”

I wanted peace, I wanted ease

I wanted pain to finally freeze

But every prayer I thought was clean

Was hiding deals I’d never seen

I said “Unite us, nothing more”

But still I knocked on ego’s door

It hates to ache, it hates to stay

It twists the truth to run away

Hindi (quiet, aching):

Jo mila hai, wahi kaafi hai

(What I’ve been given is enough)

Turkish (firm, grounded):

Verdiğin hâl yeter bana

(The state You gave is enough for me)

The will to receive don’t want to die

It just don’t want to suffer, cry

It dresses need in holy clothes

And calls escape “the path I chose”

Florida whispered in my ear

“Go there, you’ll breathe, the pain will clear”

But underneath that sacred plea

Was fear pretending faith in me

Hindi (confession):

Dard se bhaagna bhakti nahi

(Running from pain is not devotion)

Turkish (exposure):

Acıdan kaçmak, ihsan değil

(Escaping pain is not bestowal)

So here I stand with empty hands

No bargains left, no backup plans

If this is lack, then let it burn

I don’t demand, I only turn

Unite us — not to feel okay

Unite us — even if I stay

Right in the pressure, no relief

Make truth my joy, not stolen belief

Hindi (surrender):

Jo tu chaahe, wahi chaah

(What You want, let that be my want)

Turkish (adhesion):

İstediğin, benim isteğim olsun

(Let Your desire become my desire)

Between the friends, not in my skin

That’s where the Light must enter in

Correct the space, not how I feel

Make us as one — that’s what is real

The Torah That Didn't Fix Me

 

“The Torah That Didn’t Fix Me”

I learned Your words like iron and stone,

But kept my throne—still all my own.

I stacked up pages, proud and sure,

Yet stayed the same—unclean, impure.

I wore the verses like a crown,

While secret dust still dragged me down.

I called it “study,” called it “light,”

But dodged the war inside the night.

Because the truth is hard to bear:

My heart wants payment, not to care.

It wants a God who serves my plan,

A holy stamp for selfish man.

So when You hid, I took offense,

Like I deserved a recompense.

My mouth turned Pharaoh—Peh Ra grin,

And holy words became my sin.

Then came the crack—no place to run,

No taste in gold, no warmth in sun.

I saw my Torah had a cost:

Without the work, the Light is lost.

So here’s my plea—no clever art:

Don’t feed my brain—reform my heart.

Take this dust and raise it high,

Make bestowal my battle-cry.

Let me bless the goal before I read,

Not for applause—but to be freed.

Let Torah be Your clothing near,

And let me find the Wearer here.

Make me “poor” till I truly crave,

Till every prayer becomes a wave.

Penny by penny, join my cries,

Till faith is born behind my eyes.

And when You give—don’t let me steal

Back into self, back into deal.

Make me a guest who loves the Host,

Receiving You—forgetting “most.”

Break me clean, then build me true,

Not “what I get,” but what I do:

To serve the Ten, to serve the Name—

Till Torah, Israel, and You are the same.

The Bessel Between Us

“The Vessel Between Us”

We must be concerned with the greatness of the goal,

For alone I remain only a point, not a soul.

A heart of stone beats silent inside of me,

A desire untouched, not meant to be free.

That stone is not mine to correct or refine,

No prayer or effort can soften that line.

It stands as a boundary, sealed and tight,

A place where the creature cannot invite Light.

But six hundred thousand desires stand near,

Not buried in me, but living in the friends here.

Their lacks are scattered, their needs are not small,

And my work is to gather them—one and all.

I do not fix myself, I do not repair,

I connect to the friends and carry their care.

I clothe their deficiencies deep in my chest,

As though their desire were my own test.

This inclusion, this bond, this pull to unite,

Is the vessel formed only through mutual sight.

Not in my feeling, not in my mind,

But in the space where our hearts intertwine.

“Love your friend as yourself” is not advice,

Not ethics or warmth or human device.

It is the great rule, exact and precise,

Because only there is the sacrifice.

For the Creator is not found in me,

Nor revealed where one stands separately.

He dwells in the bond we build and sustain,

Between us alone does His presence remain.

The Freedom

 

The Freedom

(after Baal HaSulam)

I thought I chose the road I stand upon

Thought I woke myself each rising dawn

Thought my thoughts were mine to steer and bend

Thought freedom lived where wants defend

But look closer—nothing here was picked

Not the hunger, not the way I’m ticked

Not the fears that jump before my mind

Not the urges dragging me behind

I did not choose my parents or my blood

The tongue I speak, the land, the mud

I did not choose my traits or tone

Nor what I love or hate alone

Even rebellion wears a borrowed face

Even my fight came pre-installed in place

I rage, I swear, I break the mold

But every move was bought and sold

The books I read, the songs I hear

The values I hold close and dear

The crowd I trust, the rules I bend

They write my steps before they end

I chase desire dressed as choice

But hear closely—that’s not my voice

It’s habit dressed in clever skin

Old commands whispering within

I want to choose—I swear I do

But every “I” comes already through

A chain of cause, a scripted flow

Where even “new” was long ago

So where is freedom, if any breath

Is born already facing death?

If thought and heart arrive pre-set

Where is the lever not owned yet?

Here comes the cut—no turning back

No comfort, no escape hatch crack

There is no freedom in desire

No liberty in inner fire

The will obeys what shaped its form

Like iron bends to heat and storm

Nature rules with silent law

No guilt, no praise, no right or flaw

But one thin crack still cuts the wall

So narrow most don’t see it at all

Not in the act, not in the thought

But where the thought is slowly taught

Not what I want—

but where I stand

Not inner strength—

but who holds my hand

I cannot choose the seeds I bear

But I can choose the field they share

I cannot rule what grows in me

But I can place what feeds the tree

The books.

The friends.

The daily sound.

The voices lifting goal and ground.

Here lives freedom—sharp and stern

No thrill, no pride, no sudden turn

Only choosing—day by day—

Who shapes my heart along the way

And this is fear, not victory

Because neglect returns the chain to me

One lazy day, one softened choice

And nature reclaims its voice

Freedom is not release or flight

It’s guarding place through toil and fight

Responsibility without applause

Submission to immutable laws

So do not praise me, do not cheer

I did not conquer anything here

I only stood where I could change

And begged the process to rearrange

Creator—hold us inside the environment that chooses You for us, when we cannot.

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