Psalms 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”  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...

  🔥 “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 t...

🔥 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...

💔🔥 “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.

“The Ride Within” I wake in the morning and brush my teeth, Run a brush through my hair and shake off sleep. I stumble to the kitchen for a bitter brew, No grinds, no grounds—just a hollow view. So I laugh at fate, make a brand-new pot, Steam rising like prayers from what I’ve got. Step outside with a smoke in hand, Dreams and ashes fall in the sand. The Tri-Glide waits, chrome heart aglow, A beast of freedom with a holy flow. I kick her to life, the thunder roars, Like Malchut pounding on Heaven’s doors. Each mile burns ego from bone to bone, The wind screams truths I thought I owned. Every car I pass, every stretch of sky, Strips another layer of “I.” The road becomes the parchment scroll, Where the Creator writes across my soul. Each curve, each hum of spinning steel, Cuts away the lies I used to feel. My Ten rides beside me, unseen but near, Their hearts in my chest, their voices clear. We climb the hill of faith above reason, Through storms of doubt, through every season. I...

 “The Debt of the Light” I begged, I wept, I called His name, and suddenly the heavens came. A flash of warmth, a holy breeze— I thought I’d found eternal ease. But the Light that comes without my sweat is a loan the soul will soon regret. For every spark I did not earn must burn me back until I learn. The prayer was sweet, the labor spared, but later came the weight I dared. The debt collectors of the night— They take from me my borrowed light. The heart must bleed to make a Kli, the vessel forged in agony. Each tear a coin, each sigh a fee, for Love’s true home is poverty. So don’t believe what shines too fast, the Light unearned will never last. Labor till your bones are numb, till every “I” is overcome. Then when the darkness starts to sing, and ego dies beneath its sting, the Light returns—but now it’s yours, engraved in toil, not Heaven’s stores. Only he who pays in pain can keep the joy that’s born from strain. The debt of Light is love’s decree— I labored, found— now...