The Drift

Image – Reincarnation by Scott Frederick

I think of time, of where it went, not loss or purpose, just what was spent. I lived through portals of some lost sleep, of inclement eons that fall from reach. The drift before, me of wing and sand, the psalm within key, the ring or band. I bend my spirit to reach before, to cancel images from yesterday’s door. In time and circles we always meet, unfinished caverns where deserts meet. Do you not see me, have you not heard, the day before we met on earth. Silk revolution, in sapphire eyes, a stranger beneath these alien skies. I am in search of sparks of light, I’m near the end now, and I will not die. Tell all before me, that tend to drift, the love of someone, helps you to live.

The drift it happens, beyond the breath, it searches meaning in what you meant. It takes your notice of what you think, drowns your meaning in what it keeps. The drift is tragic if you have lied, takes all your past, you are denied. For in the dreams of what you bought, you must have given to those distraught. We dodge like warriors to defeat the end, to find like sinners there is no sin. We die and go before the drift, to circle forward, to begin again. Tell all behind me, before they drift, the love of someone, helps you to live.

I was not king or royal of men, before it happened before the drift. In truth I know not what I was, I needed someone to teach me love. In time it happened I passed beyond, took sparks before me, and touched the dawn. I fell a century, maybe two more, revolved in circles right through this door. What time or lesson, I have brought forth, Hashem’s energy that binds my core, it sends me forward to find the drift, to take within me a better gift. Do tell this legend, before you go, the lost, found journey that all will know, tell all around you, that will now drift, the love of someone, helps you to live. – 06.18.2014 –

Sweetened Day (I Want to Dance With You)


I want to dance with you on a sweetened day, when the lines are still perfect, and your hair is gray. I want to open up the womb of time, and let those past shadows melt away, and when you glance at me and my breath just fades, know the testing of my thunder is the sound of your fears running so far away.

I want to bathe your body in a living rhyme that knows not of your sickness, or your wasted time. I tested dialectic on what you might claim, is your bloodied cuts of heartbreak, on your arms of shame, and when that moon of justice turns its head away. I will hold you in compassion on a sweetened day.

I want to birth your worries on a field of grace, when the details of dark anger seem too much to face. I instigated pattern, when you chose this way, and your stumbles ever awkward, are stillborn into wonder. Your fear will know love’s knowledge, on this sweetened day.

I want to burn your guilt, with laughter, on this sweetened day. When I turn in wind before you, and my words they light auroras, emanated law before you, living Torah, chosen weakness. In your failure, adoration, all above my own creation, genetic glory of grand elation.

I want to dance with you on a sweetened day, let you stride in sapphire and touch my face. I want to summon light forever, dry your eyes in my hereafter. For in my creation, of atom and rhyme, perfected reason of destiny’s time, to watch you breathing so unashamed, has made my day grow longer, a sun forever stronger. I turn to take you with me cross the hope of man with love for me, on this sweetened day. – דָּנִיֵּאל 04/26/2014

Blessings of the Writer (Psalm of Tiferet)

Poet, you chase me, contain me in a breeze. Creator, a story, that’s born in me to believe. Wonder, first footsteps, a child you must first feed. Chastened, by darkness, you lose your mortality. Listening, stirred inward, your desert takes its toll. Hear now of a fever, a story never told. Haunted, by a sonnet, of a ghost that thieved its soul. Spirit’s, drunken soldiers, the pleasure’s still untold. Firelight, in a canyon, a pen it scribes of love. Silent, before magic, the rum it finds my blood. Tattered by the critique, the one who cannot see, the blessing of the writer when lost in mystery.

I defined G-D casting lighting, felt summer when it’s cold, written of assurance, with demons in control. Old men that were Merlin, have written in my sleep. Valleys, retained by witches have sown the words I reap. Candles, in leafless forest have chased me with a rhyme. Daniel, you have dominion, Bel’s prince has summoned time. You helped me scribe the starlight, from high born desert nights. Etched my thought in shadows, and led me to the light. The ode of throne and sapphire, a dreamed that stopped my strife, the blessing of the writer, the sparks that changed my life.

Compose, now I a changeling, an alchemy not taught, a summoning of fusion, tainted by some thought. Write I, now the sound unmade, deficient of first light, reform it to its bed now made, and ask to have real sight. Honor me with writing that changes form and deed, give me striking wisdom that grows this tree of peace. Let delight seize me, and write down song in me. Constitute the psalm of sea, and let me sail away. Establish on my forehead and arm for time to be, the blessings of the writer, my familiar trapped in me. – דָּנִיֵּאל 04/16/2014

White Robe (A True Story)

They wear a white robe in virtual euphoria, telling their secrets in all of its Gloria. I know a woman in trinity rapture, worships her kingdom in fashion forever. Plastic blood gods, forgiven here after, afraid of the old world, immune in her stature. Her kingdom in antithesis story, assumes a white robe that decrees a false glory. She stands now in licentious magic, dealing a false card, taken from shadows, written on dead skin, two thousand years, of sin forgiven, how?

I know a man that wears a white robe, speaks to the angels, reaches for kingdoms, tells of the unborn, begging as tears flow, his eyes go inward, psychosis given, his sin is living now. Roman, covered by secrets, parchment and leather, canon of ritual, taken from old ways, how? He speaks of his love for one G-D accessed, by blood god possessed, shame of the ages, come now to save us, how?

It is a strange way, declaring its favor, outsourced sorcery, torturous wisdom, blood on a strange wood, nephilim stranger, born of a woman, mystery unspoken, how? They enter underground from various places, wearing a white robe, clothed in their virtue, talking as warriors, crimson to do good, how? In G-D’s love they place their judge of hereafter, take from the old way, say it’s a new way, lost in black vision, preaching in one way lost in a three way, how?

Real life, dollar loud saviors, watching in crimson possession by business, pornography vision, how? Warfare, witches in heaven, balance is given, light turns his face, torn from the shadow, now, the true story, now. Ark of the living, hidden from Esau, how? They wear a white robe, stolen from glory, a destiny hidden, an alien forgiven, how? They seek a real light, Shekinah of Yisrael, Solomon’s protocol, the well of G-Ds wonders, sound of the holy, how? They wear a white robe, plastered in diamonds, numbering the beast, counting the minutes, numerals of knowledge, how?

This is a safe place, with white robes forbidden, where love is not hidden, blood is not needed, life is still heeded here. There is forever one from beginning the ark of unending, a balance defending know how. There is no new way, when constant is flowing, sapphire is glowing, sphere of pure light is clear. Endless, in cyclical union, compassionate fusion, no cover, forgiveness, a judgment of reason, now. – דָּנִיֵּאל 04/13/2014

Dusk & Resurrection (Cycles)_v2

I begin here in winter, the air more translucent and conductive, breathing falling.  In dusk, my face ever changing, your cycles before me.  I stood in sapphire lightning, feeling Hashem’s love consistent in all forms of reason synthesize me.  I suppose it was want, mixed with compassion and need that just kept whispering and giving until I prayed that it would give me my leave.  Dusk is seldom a rite in the dominion of Yotsehr Or’, but on that day, that star bound shrinking day, when the winds poured with their sweet soulful waters, that interesting day, HaKadosh, Baruch Hu kissed my mouth with life and made me, there was dusk, sounding twilight until darkness became like glass.  From my entrance dusk cries out to dusk, in answer light cries out to light and E’in Sof eternal rung unto rung I climbed and was delivered.

Ripping husk of famine, layer upon layer, it recalls me and this second time it leaves me.  Sound grows deeper at dusk, the light specters that have been playing most of the day turn their age and the sparkle in their eye settles, somewhat like watching the sand descend to its last grain in the hourglass, the window shade descending on a bright winter day.  Adon Olam,in dusk my assignment, my lasting grace.  This worn shelter you have stated, this internal wisdom you created, my delicate seed.  This is a wilderness in which you play my destiny, this bone held lodging upon sinking sand.  In unadorned razed ramparts I ask you my Emet, and with your energy, with your consideration, without pause, YHWH-Rapha you become me.  No entity, no earthbound accommodation, beyond me separation calls out to separation, in answer atom calls out to atom and HaMakom present rung unto rung I climbed and was received.

Genetic revelation, prognosis by change, a gift of resurrection, infernal insight, enflamed creation, dawn it rides hard before me, HaRachaman in mercy, aware never leaving unto you before sapphire, I am.  Electrical destiny, where you take me Ehiyeh sh’Ehiyeh, I am before me resurrection you release me to fly!  Renewal awakened, blind judgment forsaken, these questions are answered I will follow no dark prophet, let alone will you ever let me die.  Uri Gol blessed beauty in this your era, resurrection from fire, a place of your kindness, here surrounded by dross Mechayeh Metim returning forever you have given me breath.  This is thunder unrestrained by behavior, revived before Eden to see G-ds pure eyes.  In life of this Torah, a resurrection as blind calls out to blind, in answer sight calls out to sight and Tzur Israel resurrects me so that rung after rung I climb and I am born with fire in my feet, Adoshem, one G-D of creation I am resurrected free. – דָּנִיֵּאל 04/06/2014

Whispers by autumn (A Prayer of New Days)

Whispers by autumn, they rise and they go, no voices just writing and bearing a witness of the light that raises my soul. Sweet gift of the union, the magic of man, the budding reunion of Torah, a kiss on my forehead and hand. You take and you sing me, like psalms of the heavens, a child’s understanding, a deep heavy rhythm, incredible numbers, the wording, for glory like comfort when sleeping in the seal when you gently pass me by. Adonai-Nissi, a breath worth chanting, a ratable cleansing, a curse or a blessing, the words are written in autumn by my hand.

Whispers by autumn, like shadows of love, your gaze in my fallen hands, suddenly, that critique so old is commanded in shades of sapphire. Scores are summoned, who will understand, impulsivity, the wind of YHWH reeling like thunder in the cortex of my passion. Now my pen dances, and will not harbor what used to be me. You will not judge me like some forlorn spirit disgraced in this electrical fallen age, rather you consider me immortal, and my sin you consider equal in phenomenon to your compassion. My autumn saves me with vespers enchanted, and in my thought I write the wonder of you.

Whispers by autumn, beholden grace in syllables reserved for the nomenclature tangled in the wakes of angels. Sight well hidden now risen, born and elaborated, given to numbers and directions, measuring figuratively by given perspectives this new temple. That building of written psalm that Teit-Vav has considered constructed under autumn sight for me. What was silent, has disappeared, a phrase believed is written living, a word holy, committed deeper than any living memory. Now invade me, cast me to that place of living, and I will praise you in rhyme. Whispers by autumn, they rise and they go, no voices just writing and bearing a witness of the light that raises my soul.דָּנִיֵּאל 03/07/2014



Here now is my story, of how mystery hid the rain.  A change to sun filled seasons where sin no longer is blamed.  Summons now the old way looking for balance in grace and pain.  A forged myth of creed took my faith, and their messiah judged me when I did not bow in his name.  Sapphire of the wonder, radiant rise that kills the shame.  You render compassion in cobalt lightning, and burn me with your flame.  In blindness I am free, so free!

Sender of complexion, gender of stars, genesis that denies the sacrifice of the lamb, honesty of clear candor, that which needs no gateway to kiss the sapphire, I need no sacrifice, I need no cross to find my way back home.  Glorious light that kisses psalms of my dreams, I feel you, in the confusion of indigo, I sleep in nature of what you sing to me, riding still born on your wings!

Sender of strange possibilities, creator of the blue.  Ezekiel sees wheels of vision, I sense them too.  I am no believer in three in one or mystery, I bow to only sapphire his throne in one in majesty.  The tides of lands are shaking, revealing the seal in the sand.  The Knesset of the people, the holding of the land.  A dimming of a story, like a shadow in the shade, the building of reunion, the scabbard shapes the blade!

I think I dreamed of raptors, with crosses in their teeth.  The noise of fallen horsemen, the cries of disbelief.  A light it fell in Gilead, azure it shined in peace.  The truth of imagined prophecy, the ghost of past did speak.  A world released of Esau and Rome and Christian speak.  Void of revolution the words false prophets seek.  In time there came a chariot, it came across the sky, in its wake a throne was seen of sapphire that never dies. – DS 02/10/2014

“And above the firmament that was over their heads was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone; and upon the likeness of the throne was a likeness as the appearance of a man upon it above”.  Ezekiel 1:26

The Frozen Covenant (A Conversation)


It’s okay if you keep walking, or maybe you want to sit awhile.  There was a place back there away from some of the noise of traffic.  In reflection yes the day is a bit cold.  To me it signifies judgment, that’s a part of me.  Why yes I think there is need.  I like to term it as a frozen covenant I maintain.  The explanation you’re seeking is available but probably not from the source you’re seeking it from.  You seem to have a lot of questions this morning; I’ll try to answer them one by one.  The truth is you will probably find them answered if you listen a little more and talk a little less.

I like that shirt, the color looks good on you.  That Sapphire blue has always been a favorite of mine.  One of these days you might have the opportunity to experience the reality of the creation of Sapphire; I did a whole solar system one time, just Sapphire.  It looked like a trillion blue dwarf stars really nice.  Everything being in balance like it is of course I had to do another cosmic way in Obsidian.  The whole system is very glossy but really cold, much colder than the weather you’re experiencing on your little outing today.

Getting back to some of your questions, I have a couple of observations to make.  First, your wording is not really original, I hear the same words from a billion tongues, a few times each day.  Second, in your lack of originality there seems to be a lot of overuse of the words why, need and blessing.  With such simple words, I know you are expecting some very complex answers from me.  That is something that I sometimes take a little private pleasure in, that so many of my creations conjure up a mythical complexity that they apply to me.  I don’t want to get off topic here but the reality is I created the universe with one syllable sounds and words.  Yes don’t look surprised one of them was bang.

Let’s discuss this why word first, my guess is that your thinking you will have your needs met and be blessed if you know the answer to why.  I created guessing and I can see by the look on your frozen face that I’m spot on here.  Just so you know why is a topic that both compassion and judgment have been wrestling around with since the days of Eden.  Just so you don’t misunderstand as I know you are prone to do, I do take this all very seriously.

This whole raining on the just and the unjust deal that was spun around a few years ago I think you will agree has not given much comfort to my creation of which you are one.  I find that those who seldom seem to find themselves in a sticky wicket like this line of delusional philosophy the best.  It’s interesting though, let them go blind, lose a fortune, or a child, and all of a sudden it can go rain in Sheol, there is a strong need to know why.

I know you have a day to get on with, as do I, so I will not suffer you with a history on the subject at hand, although I would encourage you to delve a little deeper into the code that holds the story of Job, it might help to benefit your future or better your outlook in some surprising way.  Really scratch beyond what you think the meaning of each word is.  Apply what you learn to your life just don’t talk about it.  Just between us there are far too many talkers on this planet, and not many doers.  The balance gets a little off when things are like that.  I find religious zealots enjoy the chaos.  What would surprise them is I don’t listen to them much.

I mentioned a little earlier, when you were sneezing out by the road this outlier that I maintain called a frozen covenant.  In a nutshell, and yes I do use the term often but mostly by the acronym “NS” the frozen contract is between my compassion and judgment.  The balance that keeps both sides of the covenant out of a blood feud is the concept of honesty.

Your teeth stopped chattering which is a sign to me that I have probably hit a raw nerve.  You know a few years ago “Billy Joel: did some nice work on his song “Honesty”.  When you’re studying Job, you might want to listen to that song a few times as well.

This concept of honesty bears a truth that answers why.  The frozen covenant that I have established between Grace and Din renders that the truth my creation bears within its self and then unto others will render why invalid until old Heaven and Earth pass away.  The surprising addendum to this covenant is that the other two common words you brought into our discussion early on are also covered.  I find that the balance of honesty between my compassion and judgment also delivers blessing and fulfillment of needs.  I am glad to see you’re interested.

I like to complete these meetings we have with a little pick me up.  I want you to know that I like what I see in your future.  This honesty concept is a tightrope you’re going to have to maneuver between my judgment and compassion in order to help me fulfill my frozen covenant.  I would suggest that since you have started with me you move onto yourself and then watch out “Nellie” you’re going to practice it with others.  In the meantime you have a great walk, its cold out here so keep moving its good for the circulation.  I’ll see you this evening after dinner.