Psalms In The Heart

  “I Hear דבקות  (Dvekut)  Calling” I hear דבקות calling — not soft, not sweet, It don’t whisper comfort, it drags my feet. It don’t ask me nice, it don’t let me hide, It pounds on my chest saying die while alive . I fall straight into מלכות , cracked and bare, No excuses left, no prayer prepared. Just a hole in the heart where the truth leaks through, And a scream that says I can’t do this — You do . Then בינה steps in like a mother with steel, Cuts off my taking so I finally feel. Not mercy for ego, not love for the lie, But the strength to stop grabbing and still not die. חכמה flashes — too bright, too fast, A flood with no question, no future, no past. It don’t explain itself, it don’t slow its flame, If I try to hold it — it burns up my name. And כתר don’t argue, don’t bargain, don’t bend, It just asks one thing — are you with the Ten? Not your story, not your pain, not your spiritual sound, But whose will is crowned when no one’s around. So I strip off the...

  WE COME WITH EVERYTHING We are not coming for comfort, applause, or display, We’re coming because our souls found the way. Before tickets or plans or a date on the wall, This meeting was written inside of us all. Bring what is broken, bring what feels thin, Bring doubts that still echo and storms from within. No strength is required, no mask to maintain, The Ten is built only from truth and from pain. Your seat in the room is not random or spare, A place in the Kli only you can repair. If you think you are empty, that’s precisely the key— The lack that you carry is how we are free. Sit with the friends, even silent, even worn, A shared inner future is quietly born. No one above and no one below, Just hearts learning how to bestow what they know. This isn’t a weekend, a lesson, a stage, It’s a vow to stay bonded from age unto age. To choose love again when the feeling grows thin, Until “me” disappears in the love of the Ten. We come for the friends who don’t yet feel strong...

  A Prayer the 99% Don’t Know They’re Saying We heard there’s a Torah, rules carved in the sky, Six hundred thirteen ways to live, or to die. Two kinds, they say—some yes, some no, But nobody taught us how the inside should go. They told us, “Do good. Don’t cross the line.” “Be careful. Be proper. Be holy. Be fine.” So we learned how to stop, how to shut, how to hide, But no one explained what to do with the fire inside. Two hundred forty-eight say, Stand up and give, Move your heart forward, choose how you live. Three sixty-five say, Don’t take for yourself, Hold back the ego, put it back on the shelf. But here’s where we stumble, here’s where we freeze— We stop doing wrong… then stop doing anything . We call it control, we call it restraint, But slowly our color all turns into paint. We withdraw from the fight, withdraw from the mess, Withdraw from the love that demands our “yes.” We don’t steal, don’t shout, don’t cross the line— But we also don’t give, don’t risk, don’t ...

  “Striking the Screen” Thoughts hit my skull like a hammering rain, Round and around, same doubt, same pain. If this was false I’d sleep just fine, But truth don’t rest where the ego signs. The mind demands proof, a reason, a feel, It wants a receipt, something stamped as real. But the screen stands firm, I swallow the blow, Faith clenched tight where the answers won’t show. No sweetness here, no glow, no spark, Just grit in my teeth and a walk in the dark. I don’t feel the King, don’t taste His weight, Yet I stay on the road and don’t renegotiate. Every strike says “quit,” every whisper says “bend,” But the screen says “hold” and I won’t rescind. Above reason I crown Him, silent and still, And that hidden choice fills the upper will. No more, no less — exact is the law, What I raise above mind returns as awe. First in concealment I pay the price, Then truth descends, measured, precise. So beat me with thoughts, let the whole world shout, This screen stays standing — that’s ...

  Reason Is the Next Wall I climbed above reason and thought I arrived, The pain got quieter, my hope felt alive. The darkness retreated, the doubts took a seat, I said, “This must be faith,” then faith turned to deceit. What once was belief became comfort and ground, The edge disappeared, no danger I found. My reason got dressed in spiritual clothes, And stopped me from climbing where real faith goes. The Creator withdrew, not out of neglect, But to show me the trap of what I call correct. What lifted me yesterday, today blocks the way, And demands I rise higher or honestly pray. I cannot jump alone, the height is too steep, My reason screams safety, my ego says sleep. Only the Ten, pulling hard on my soul, Can drag me beyond my imagined control. Again we rise, and again it will fall, Each new reason turning into the next wall. Until nothing is left that I call “me,” And between us appears what they call Dvekut — free.

  Between Two Worlds Is Prayer We walk this world with our feet in the dust, Hearts full of cracks but a stubborn trust. This state feels heavy, the nights feel long, Yet something keeps whispering, hold on, stay strong. We dream of a place where the heart is not torn, Where love of the friends feels natural, born. Not clouds or crowns or a heavenly view, Just hearts stitched together, simple and true. This world pulls inward, the ego’s demand, The next pulls outward — take your friend’s hand. Between the two states, no clever repair, Only a cry rising up called prayer. Not prayers of comfort, not prayers for ease, But prayers to bend where the ego won’t please. To see my brother as higher than me, To beg for the strength just to let him be free. If I fall today, let it be for the Ten, If I rise tomorrow, let it lift them again. No world to escape, no future to flee, Just learning to love — that’s eternity.

  “When Prayer Can’t Pray” I came with words, I came with need I came believing You would lead I knocked so hard my knuckles bled And heaven stayed completely dead My mouth went dry, my heart went cold The body laughed, you’ve prayed — you’re old “Look at the years, look at the cost Every request already lost” I knew You help, I knew it’s true But knowing didn’t pull me through The bitter herb stayed in my throat I swallowed prayers — they wouldn’t float Then faith collapsed, not You — just me No strength to ask, no will to plea So here I stood, stripped of disguise With nothing left but empty eyes And in that place so dark, so bare I found one thing that still was there A cry not shaped, a plea undone “Help me to pray — I have none” No answer came, no sudden light Just one more step against my sight To trust You hear, though I don’t feel To pray against what looks real This is the work — not hope that sees But standing broke upon my knees When prayer dies and still I stay T...