The Faithful Servant

Seek and ye shall find the passage that leads through time.

The second hand has become unwound; but yet, Allah (Hashem) can always find the faithful servant. As Allah (Hashem) will help, guide and always be waiting; for the faithful servant no matter where they shall go.


I’m walking slowly down the road of His obedience carrying a suitcase full of memories; as you watch through windows wondering if I’m alright, hoping you’re image of me never fades (or that which was before will vanish; to also, you shall leave something behind for the better).



I have always walked way ahead on the road; it is time for you to come and catch-up, for He has called.

Do not ever be discouraged, for you’re faith and that which is inside of you that He see's and focus not on darkness; for has made you as the transcending colors within a rainbow.

Think of the warm summer nights almost left behind, when your head seemed to be going in confused circles as one in tedium and the clock seemed to be in a pounding rhythm on the wall; when Allah (Hashem) was in your thoughts and you thought He wasn’t listening, which He actually was, more than you could possibly ever have known.

Secrets stolen (incomprehensible) from deep inside shall be revealed, as the drum continues to beat out of time.

There is a confortable, modest white house still not forgotten with a quaint smile; that has an office in it with a bay window cut into several squares, which across from the window is a cherry wood executive desk sitting on a tan plush carpet with white walls. Outside, is a little sappling tree; as though it was freshly planted; but could not understand the argument that had been in the distance when the call came through a prayer.

The man that belongs to the office has an exceptionally kind heart; but yet, an air of sternness when need be. What is most interesting about them, they would always be a pleasure to know.

A little something extra about the desk, the top was not empty, which showed a diligent person and was organized-who has the memory of the frail traveler dressed in white who wished to see not from the distance to understand, but Allah (Hashem) allowed them to visit for only a moment and then returned them from where they came with the white and blue tulips embedded in glass-for this I yet, smile to myself.

The first time they ever saw the traveler, was a long time ago. -HRM Deborah

Gone Sailing

The Archangel of Children, having to do with an old prayer by name and the reasoning of the little Archangels predicament.

Alone thoughts of contemplation, sailing upon the Mediterranean Sea. The sailboat came into being about 1980.

Good Evening

A sky over Israel

Another day has come and gone
The evening sky is beckoning
Soon to say good night.

With a smile at the dipping rays
To the dancing stars
We all know that we as people,
Are one.

- HRM Deborah

In the Winter of Life

To further clarify, this poem was written after the assassination attempt on myself, in 2000. Also, one day the US man that was holding mother and I captive; said that I was never to reach 30 years-old. The thought of this rolled around in my mind, while I was recovering from my injuries and the fact that what occurred Allah (Hashem) had saved me once more.

This particular poem, I wrote in about 2000, actually in further thinking about a dog that was in advanced age; I had saved the dog’s life from being killed or further abused by his previous American owners, about four years prior. He had been so mistreated before I had saved him that he use to fear bite, but while he never bit me; he was always extremely cautious of strangers.

Seeing the dog made me think, about when we as people; get in the winter season of our lives.

As for the dog, he passed away several months later from advanced age; for it was just his time and was buried were he would feel the most freedom from the sorrows of youth.

When he was still able before arthritis began to set in, he enjoyed taking long walks and feel the breeze in his fur and if one did not know better; it made him happy. He tended to remind one, of the demeanor of a very dignified elderly gentleman with a whitening goatee and I cannot help remembering, how much he enjoyed my voice; my first husband said my voice sounded kind and had a softness. When he saw I had been injured, he seemed to have taken it rather hard. His name was, "Pepper;" while I did not name him; he was a purebred red colored, large-size Chihuahua.

This was just another incident, were love can heal a lot of pain; even for a little dog; with the thoughts of how precious any life actually is.