Inheritance of Light (His Guidance Concealed and Revealed)

 

Inheritance of Light (His Guidance Concealed and Revealed)

I thought inheritance meant gold and land,

Something my father could leave in my hand,

But the Creator left me nothing to hold,

Only a heart that remembers the cold.

When He was near, I felt rich and complete,

Every desire lay down at His feet,

But when He vanished, the world turned to stone,

And I was left with a hunger alone.

So what did I keep when the Light went away?

Not the pleasure, not what I felt yesterday,

Only a record, a silent demand,

A Reshimo burning like dust in the sand.

Concealment taught me what I truly lack,

Revelation showed me the path to come back,

Between the two, I inherit a cry,

Not for reward—but to know who am I.

The ego says, “Give me something to see,”

The soul says, “Leave only faith inside me,”

One wants the payment, the other the why,

One wants to live, the other to die.

But die into what? Into love of the Ten,

Into a place where there’s no “I” again,

Where even in darkness I choose to bestow,

And inherit the Light even when it won’t show.

So the will to receive gets stripped of its throne,

And I learn how to walk in a world unknown,

Not by the feeling, not by the sign,

But by choosing connection when Light doesn’t shine.

This is the fortune no grave can contain,

Not pleasure, not wisdom, not spiritual gain,

Only the power to say in the night:

“I serve You still… even without Your Light.”

That’s the inheritance, written in flame,

Not what I get—but for what I aim,

To love You concealed more than revealed,

And inherit the Creator by how I yield.

In Prayer, What Does It Take

 What Does It Take

What does it take for a prayer to be complete

First one must check in his heart very deep

Then one must know the One he asks

Can deliver without a lapse

And does that One have a kind heart

To give with mercy so we can start

But deeper still, we come to see

The lack itself must come from we

Not for relief, not for escape

Not just to sweeten bitter fate

But to desire what He desires

To rise above these ego fires

A prayer is not the words we say

It’s when the heart has no other way

When all our strength is fully gone

And only unity lives on

When we can’t stand being apart

When separation breaks the heart

When only one request remains:

Connect us all above these chains

Then silence speaks, the tears align

Our lack becomes a single line

Not “give me light,” not “answer me,”

But make us fit for what You see

That’s when the prayer is truly whole:

One lack, one heart, one common soul.

The Only Help

“The Only Help”

We came to the work with empty hands,

Full of questions no one understands,

We thought the help was light or sight,

Some holy feeling, some inner might.

But every time the answer came,

It pointed back to the same old pain:

Not what we get, not what we feel,

But what we truly want is real.

We ask for strength, we ask for signs,

We ask for peace, for higher minds,

But all those prayers return again,

Revealing only self and gain.

So the work begins in the lack,

When we see the will to receive attack,

And in that place so dark and bare,

We find the only honest prayer.

We ask for the will to bestow,

Nothing more, nothing we know,

Not for light, not for reward,

Only to want what You want, Lord.

In the space between us, not in the mind,

There Dvekut lives, there we find,

Not in the answer, not in the view,

But in the desire to resemble You.

When does Dvekut truly appear?

Not when it’s sweet, not when it’s clear,

But when we see we cannot give,

And still choose bestowal to live.

Where does it happen? Not in the heart,

Not in one, but in the part

Where the Ten annul as one,

And self is lost in common run.

Why is the help so small, so thin?

Because the ego hides within,

Dressing itself in holy clothes,

Even our prayers it overthrows.

So the sign we’re walking true,

Is not the light, but the lack of You,

And from that lack, so deep, so real,

We ask for one thing: change our will.

We ask for the will to bestow,

Nothing more, nothing we know,

Not for light, not for reward,

Only to want what You want, Lord.

In the space between us, not in the mind,

There Dvekut lives, there we find,

Not in the answer, not in the view,

But in the desire to resemble You.

We Make The Creator

We Make the Creator

We went lookin’ for God in the sky above,

Thought He lived in some distant kind of love,

But every time we prayed alone,

All we found was an echo in a stone.

Then we looked at each other, heart to heart,

And something broke that kept us apart,

Our pride fell down, our walls got thin,

And a different kind of light moved in.

We don’t find the Creator, we make Him here,

From every intention, every fear,

Between our hearts and the space we bring,

That space between us is everything.

Every thought we hold about the Ten,

Is the shape of the world we’re livin’ in,

If we judge, we darken the frame,

If we love, we give Him a name.

No image, no face, no holy throne,

Just the will to bestow in flesh and bone,

What we build in the space we share,

Is the only God we can declare.

We don’t find the Creator, we make Him here,

From every intention, every fear,

Between our hearts and the space we bring,

That space between us is everything.

No friends, no God — that’s the law,

No love, no Light — no form at all,

The Upper Light just waits in line,

Till we design the interface inside.

We don’t find the Creator, we make Him true,

From how we relate, from how we choose,

Not in the heavens, not in our head,

But in the love that we build instead.

A Penny Of Light

A Penny of Light

I was not born to fix the sky,

Or gather stars that wander by,

I came with just a spark so small,

A shattered piece from Adam’s fall.

Once we were one, one breath, one flame,

No loss, no distance, no two names,

But light was broken, love was split,

And I was born from part of it.

Not with a crown, not with a key,

Just one small coin entrusted to me,

A penny of light, a fragile part,

Hidden deep inside my heart.

I searched the world, I searched the mind,

For something higher I could find,

But Heaven whispered, soft and true:

“You only need to fix your you.”

Not all the souls, not all the pain,

Not every loss, not every chain,

Just this desire, this will I hold,

This place where love turned into gold.

I wasn’t sent to be a saint,

Or paint the world without a stain,

I was sent back, again, again,

To learn how not to live for men.

But to bestow, to bend the heart,

To feel the friends as living parts,

To turn reception into prayer,

And find the Creator waiting there.

And if I fall, and lose the way,

The righteous come, they help me stay,

Not to replace my work or choice,

But lend me strength, and lend me voice.

So now I know why I return,

Not as a curse, but chance to learn,

Until this spark no longer hides,

And learns to love, and not divide.

When this small coin is fully bright,

When my desire becomes Your light,

There’s no more reason to come back —

I’ve paid my debt in love, not lack.

Not Moses’ crown, not Adam’s flame,

Just my small part, just my small name,

And in that drop, the whole is found:

One heart corrected, homeward bound.

The Two Hearts

The Two Hearts

The desires of the heart

Just never stop or part,

They keep knocking on the door,

Always wanting more and more.

But when I work in Torah and Mitzvah,

With intention just to bestow,

Not only in what I know,

But also in what I feel below.

Then slowly I begin to see,

What’s real in me, what isn’t me,

And even in that simple act,

I meet resistance, sharp and black.

Because the ego won’t let go,

It claims all rights to all I know,

It says, “This life, this heart is mine,

Your thoughts, your will, your time.”

But there’s a point I cannot steal,

A silent spark I start to feel,

A different voice, a different art,

A second heart inside the heart.

One heart wants only to receive,

To take, to own, to grip, to believe,

The other wants to give away,

To love, to serve, to light the way.

So now I live between these two,

The old “for me,” the new “for You,”

And every moment is the start,

Of choosing which one rules the heart.

Not by my strength, not by my might,

But by the Light that shows what’s right,

Between the ego’s clever lies,

And the point in the heart that never dies.

613 Ways To Learn How To Love

613 Ways to Learn How to Love

I thought the rules were written in stone,

Some ancient code I’d never own.

Six hundred thirteen lines to keep,

So God would smile and I’d get sleep.

But then I learned the truth inside,

The laws were carved into my pride.

Not in the hands, not in the eyes,

But in the heart where ego lies.

Every want that says “it’s me”,

Every fear of not being free,

Every need to win, to shine,

To make the world and God be mine.

That’s one desire, that’s one wall,

That’s one place where I still fall.

Not a sin, not some mistake,

Just one more form my love can take.

The work’s not changing what I feel,

Not killing hunger, lust, or zeal.

It’s learning how to aim the fire,

So giving rides inside desire.

I don’t fix it, I don’t pretend,

I bring it to the space of friends.

And in that gap, so small, so true,

I ask for love I cannot do.

And something comes, I can’t explain,

A softer will inside the pain.

The same old want, but dressed in light,

Now wants to give instead of fight.

So maybe God didn’t write a book,

Maybe He wrote the way I look.

Six hundred thirteen cracks in me,

Six hundred ways to finally see.

Not rules to follow, not debt to pay,

Just learning how to love each day.

And every time I choose the “we”,

Another light remembers me.