The Creator Gathered Us Again

We lifted a prayer without a sound,

For friends whose faces were not around.

Not asking for comfort, not asking for gain,

Only that our hearts be joined again.

Days passed quietly, one by one,

Never knowing what the Creator had done.

Yet deep within His hidden plan,

He guided each step of every man.

Then suddenly joy filled the room,

Replacing distance, removing gloom.

Jean returned with an open heart,

And Oscar came to take his part.

No one can measure the gift we received,

Or the prayer that the Creator conceived.

For what seemed lost was never gone,

It simply waited to be drawn.

Now the ten feels warmer, stronger, whole,

As gratitude rises from every soul.

Not for numbers, not for pride,

But for the love the Creator placed inside.

So today our hearts together sing,

To the One who arranges everything.

With thanks beyond what words can say,

For gathering His friends this day.

The vessel grows, the bond runs deep,

Through every promise we strive to keep.

And with grateful hearts we clearly see,

The friends returned through His mercy.

https://suno.com/s/cOw655ZUdQI8L9qC

Faith on the Road

A farmer plants a seed in spring,

Though no green leaf is there.

He waters earth he cannot trust,

Yet tends it with his care.

A sailor leaves the harbor shore,

Though storms may fill the sea.

He follows stars he cannot hold,

Believing what will be.

A father works from dawn till dusk,

His hands are worn and sore.

He cannot see tomorrow's bread,

Yet knocks on duty's door.

So walks the soul upon the path,

When darkness fills the eyes.

Not knowing where the next step lands,

Yet turning toward the skies.

And righteousness is not a crown,

Nor something one can claim.

It is the heart that justifies

The One behind the game.

To say, "Whatever comes today,

I still will hold the line.

Your wisdom sees what I cannot,

Your purpose is divine."

Then peace arrives without a sound,

Like evening after rain.

Not because every problem's gone,

Or life is free from pain.

But because the heart has learned at last

What all the sages knew:

The hand that asks, the faith that grows,

And the help received are two

Appearances of One great Love

That guides us all the way.

And every step in simple faith

Is righteousness today.

https://suno.com/s/9HylToc631rFdpfU

When I Think of the Creator

When I Think of the Creator

When I think of the Creator, He won't let me sleep

Through it all, Torah and Mitzvot I keep

Never forgetting where I belong

My heart keeps singing the same old song

The world grows quiet, the night grows deep

Yet thoughts of connection I gladly keep

For somewhere beyond what these eyes can see

A path of love is calling me

The ego whispers, "Rest awhile"

But the point in the heart won't reconcile

It longs to rise, it longs to start

To join the friends with one common heart

Each friend a candle, each prayer a flame

Though we are many, the goal's the same

To build a vessel strong and true

Where love of others can break through

So if I wander or lose my way

The Ten reminds me where I must stay

And every longing, every tear

Becomes a call for the Creator to hear

For when I think of the Creator above

I feel His answer through the friends' love

And sleepless nights no longer seem wrong

For that's exactly where I belong.

The Flow Chart

 

The Flow Chart

I spent my life with grease-stained hands,

Following lines no man commands.

A truck rolls in, the engine dies,

The answer's never in the cries.

Check the fuel and check the spark,

Follow the path through light and dark.

A dead battery won't start a ride,

No matter how much pride's inside.

A broken wire, a cracked fuel line,

Each fault revealed one step at a time.

Then Rav would speak, and I would see,

The same damn chart inside of me.

Friend rejects friend, the ego roars,

So check the heart before the doors.

Can't find love? Then check your pride.

Can't see truth? The self's inside.

If connection fails, don't blame the ten,

Go back and trace the chart again.

Annul. Include. Enliven. Pray.

The pathway's always been that way.

The mechanic and the sage agree:

Every repair starts honestly.

And when the vessel's torn apart,

The Creator works... through every part.

THE ROSH DECIDES

 

I came with fish clenched hard in hand,

Certain my hunger should command.

He wanted dogs, another route—

And ego rose with sacred doubt.

I thought the war was food or place,

Not Pharaoh screaming for first place.

I called it “truth,” “concern,” “what’s best”—

But self sat grinning in my chest.

The Ten said move. I wanted still.

The Rosh spoke clear. I fought his will.

Not with fists—much worse than that—

A silent “yes”… while pride fought back.

For brutal is the path of few:

Not proving that my choice is true,

But crucifying inner throne

To build one heart above my own.

What is fish? What are hot dogs? Dust.

What is “my way”? A serpent’s lust.

The meal’s not holy—the work is where

I kill the tyrant hiding there.

Before the choice, I speak my part.

I bring my thought, my mind, my heart.

But once the head has drawn the line—

His path, for us, must now be mine.

Because a body torn by pride

Leaves Light outside with self inside.

A thousand “rights” can break the chain,

While one annulled can summon rain.

So cast the lots. Draw out my fate.

Send me where I did not wait.

And let me bless what ego hates—

For there the gate of Heaven waits.

The Rosh decides. My war begins.

Not out there—no. The war within.

Will I divide… or bend and build?

Will self stay crowned… or self be killed?

For every vote and every meal,

Reveals if what we preach is real.

The Ten is forged when wills collide—

And love remains… though self has died.

So break me, friends. Don’t spare my cry.

Strip “me” until “we” learns to fly.

For only those who choose the whole

Can turn a shattered group… to soul.

The Gift They Spit On

THE GIFT THEY SPIT ON

I came with fire cupped in broken hands,

Not gold, not pride—just what love demands.

A verse, a song, a cry for us,

To lift dead hearts from dust to trust.

But some men laughed before they heard,

Killed the gift before the word.

Called it trash, then shut the gate,

As if contempt could conquer fate.

“Don’t bring your shit,” the body cried,

While Rav’s own words they cast aside.

“We don’t care what Rav has said”—

So ego crowned the living dead.

And still I came.

Still took my seat.

Still dragged my shattered soul to meet.

Not for honor. Not for praise.

But because love must walk through hate.

I watched the numbers slowly rise,

From two cold hearts to seven eyes.

So maybe every stone they threw

Was building something strong and true.

Still—it cuts.

Like teeth in bone.

To give your heart and stand alone.

To bring a gift from love’s own thread,

And have your brothers wish it dead.

But here’s the brutal truth I’ve learned:

The friend who’s crushed is where faith burns.

For if I stay when all reject,

Then love is real—not self-respect.

So let them mock.

Let some despise.

Let ego spit its ancient lies.

I did not come for their applause—

I came because the path is law.

And if the Ten is torn by pride,

Then I will stand where truth survives.

Not perfect. Not untouched. Not free.

But love of friends still lives in me.

Because the hardest gate above

Is loving those who kill your love.

And maybe this unbearable pain…

Is where the Ten is born again.

PEACE IN THE WORLD — HASTEN OR BLEED

 We praise the Light, then crawl like dust,

Begging the fire while serving lust.

The Creator’s great—but not by word,

By what breaks inside when truth is heard.

Two roads were carved before man’s feet:

Hasten the soul—or suffer defeat.

Achishena burns through chosen flame,

Be’ito drags through sorrow and shame.

The whip still strikes the one who waits,

Time don’t knock—it devastates.

Pain’s the teacher when pride won’t bend,

Till shattered bones cry out for Ten.

Society ain’t some social chair,

It’s the forge that proves your prayer.

What you breathe into hearts nearby,

Returns as wings—or leaves you dry.

If I bring fire, they hand me sun.

If I bring self, I come undone.

A man alone feeds death its due,

But Ten makes old creation new.

The world finds peace when each one knows:

The Creator’s greatness is what grows.

Not through fear, nor empty cry—

But lifting friends until self dies.

So damn my laziness, scorch my pride,

Don’t let “in time” become my ride.

I choose the path where brothers strain—

To hasten love before forced pain.

CHORUS

Hasten me now—before the rod

Teach my bones the fear of God

Make me fuel for hearts of men

For peace begins inside the Ten