Our heart is the altar. In whatever you do let a spark of the holy fire burn within you, so that you may fan it into a flame. ~Baal Shen Tov
The place lays phased like a warrior slayed,
Engraved into the space with his sword still raised.
Layers of charcoal sprayed through hallways,
Praise relays off the walls echoing all ways.
Dirt covered earth lays beneath my rib cage,
Giving birth to overgrowth invading on to path ways.
Burnt out trees cover streets where children once played,
Sown seeds decay through sacred stepping stones in disarray.
Where the alter used to be placed inter-changed for bloodstains,
Sun-rays illuminate the smoke filled haze,
Trace of incense scents of sacrifice stayed.
Aish tamid eternally
A fire burns continuously
Wondering where you been
Won’t you come on home to me?
Flash back patches of grass growing wild in fact,
Cracked walls burnt black like a kingdom sacked.
Memories like artifacts attacked yet still intact,
Melodies wrapped in glass and shatter with the impact.
Air intermingling ringing with the singing
Of songs once sung, hung, flung into the rafters.
Catastrophe struck the sound stuck,
The aftermath a blasted building still standing, like a starved man fasting
the skies expanding clouds passing, dust particles dancing,
in broken bars of light, streaming from a shaft, slashed into the ceiling,
Shhhhh, you can feel the ground breathing…
Flames Dancing Like A Lion Roaring…
~lyrics from Matisyahu Aish Tamid
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