Introduction
Ben Rubin
was born in Poland. In 1979 he escaped from the Communist Army
and emigrated to the United States of America. Within a short
time Benjamin departed for the land of his forefathers - Israel.
He resided in Jerusalem for more than fifteen years absorbing the
knowledge of his ancestors. While living in Israel, Benjamin came
to a living faith in the Messiah Yeshua (Jesus). Since that time
he has established an international evangelism ministry. Benjamin
is an accomplished musician, writer and poet. He has graciously
let "The Messianic Literary Corner" establish this
website to communicate his burning love for the Lord with you.
You
are a flower
[As one of
Yeshua's disciples might have observed]
You are a
flower which has not yet bloomed
Tall tree
which has not yet taken a root
A pearl to
be formed and then to be found
A diamond
still buried deep in the ground
You are
the echo of eons of time
You are
the voice still to be refined
Ray of
rainbows which still must appear
In time
still appointed, this time is near
Your time
is to come to show the divine
Though
water already was changed into wine
Still
hidden in shadows then brought to light
Lifted on
high, hid in the ground then glorified
The
everlasting one, the ancient one with scars
Earth
could not hold you, no moons, no stars
No width,
no depth, no height, no distance
No light
nor darkness, no man's insistence
The task
was finished the price was paid
The world
is redeemed who wants to be saved?
From gloom
and darkness, dreaded separation
From the
Almighty from His inspiration
The Word
made flesh - His son the revelation
The way,
the truth, the life - the Ancient of days
Like most
precious seed lost without a trace
Among
those who like Him suffered many #####
He fell
and was buried in fields made out of souls
He
flourished and blossomed and sprang up anew
Can you
see Him in me, can I see Him in you?
Power of Truth
September
'96
[The Lord allows us to meet
people who claim to be true yet the fruit sometimes shows the
contrary]
Countless
tears are silent now they won't tell the truth
Countless
hurts and countless hopes lost their voices too
My so
called friends turned dumb... and grope confused
The ring
of truth they heard and loved, whose echo's now defused -
By other
more important rings like of that broken bell
Still
hanging high, in self-respect, adored and worshipped...by hell
Lovers of
self, in propped-up chairs, wanton schemes their minds devise
Ears
###### with wax of endless 'I'. Sponge? Hearts made of stone, in
disguise.
The pure
and honest, the poor and meek are less than refuse, under their
feet
The
etiquette... The form....The smile, stylish gestures and crafty
feat...
Is to
mislead then choke to death with polluted air of sophistication
With lying
tongue, with endless words and endless personification-
Of someone
else whose heart is pure, whose words are few yet mighty
Whose mind
is set to do one thing: to please the One called the Almighty
Yet truth
keeps suffering, but it has time for it can stand, it can endure
The
onslaught of the broken bell whose sound's distorted whose
shape's disfigured
Yet
ringing dimly for those in shadows, in murky waters, in
white-washed tombs
Oh let it
ring when truth is marching. And let it spike those bleeding
wounds
Oh let it
have its final fill and let it make this noise and drill
Till it
exhausts its put-on strength and let it make its final spill
All tears
are dried...old wounds are healed, the time has come to climb the
spire
Roll up
the sleeves and free the slaves, still in a daze, under a spell
of the old liar
Crush! The
cracked old bell is shattered now, all are awake, the veil's
removed
The
vision's clear, the Rock is here - The truth... it shall not be
moved!
What
can dust say
November
'96
[Jewish soul is unique indeed for
before it inhabited an earthly body it was first taught to
rejoice or complain... but only to its Maker]
What can
dust say when He ##### it away?
What can
clay say when it's bathed in a flame?
When He
tares it apart, then throws it to the side
Cracks it
like a pot, beats it with all might
What can
dust say to the Maker?
What can
wheat say to the shaker?
What can
clay say to the potter?
When He
makes the furnace hotter?
What can
son say to his father
New born
infant to its mother
What can
horse say to a wagon?
What can
ox say to the plowman?
What can
plow say to the earth?
And what
can earth say to all men?
Like a
flower in a garden cut and taken to be sold
Strange
surroundings...crystal vase...fades, dies cold
Crystal
bars, stagnated water, flower rots without a bail
What
remains is a dream world - broken sailboat with no sail
Shattered
pot, stitched up with strings, sings no more hymns
Broken
plane with broken wings, thinks it flies... on illusion winds
It's not a
matter of acceptance, all which comes my way
Do I have
another choice? Can I cry? What can dust say?
Can I
fight against God's plans? I'd rather succumb
To
whatever may come, like a beast with no regrets, dumb...
Like a
water drop in a beam of light fades out and fades in
I've got
no choice but to change my form, cloud driven by wind
He must
fill for He has emptied. He has sewn and made the rip
What He's
shattered must He mend...raise this broken ship
Change the
currents, streams, fix the sails and place the rudder,
#### new
winds and write new hymns for the pot once shattered
He must
raise me up again or still keep me in the morgue
You sliced
me up, like a piece of meat pierced me with fork
I've had
no option. You brought me low...lower...to naught
Your plan,
desire, seems ominous, your wish of 'yes' and 'not'
I'll eat
your grapes, drink wine till dawn then #### the lees
Without
one word just like a beast I do surrender and die in peace
Veils
of innocence
[Maturity slowly replaces
innocence. What is true maturity? Choosing innocence!]
A child is
born with eyes shut tight
The noise
is too loud, the light is too bright
After a
while the world has its way
The laws
which it governs, prevail
The child
now sees, wiggles and smiles
It cries,
it's hungry, eats and retires
Sleeping
and waking, living, subsisting
Till time
has its fill, it's hungering it's thirsting
Little by
little the world is discovered
What was
still hidden and dimly covered
Now
reemerge in images once known, alas
Colors and
shapes, blue sky, green grass...
They are
here now from long, long ago
The child
has seen, the child has known
What is my
mission on this dreary spree?
And what
is the purpose of being here?
The
child's probing all signals... in distress
They make
no sense... they're hidden...
in veils
of innocence.
Your
Doorstep
July '97
[Longing
for God can be unbearable yet prayer from the heart is as
soothing as the Balm of Gilead.]
Those
special seasons I long for Lord
Those
moments when You take me along
Your paths
of holiness, secrets and awe
You reveal
to me what's hidden and even more...
Your
heart... so tender that any careless word
Might
pierce through it and injure it Lord
I long for
those moments I cherished long ago
While
still on Your bosom, to most unknown
Although
like me they were with you too
Yet still
grope in shadows of not knowing You
For having
this knowledge... say: 'it's insane'
How
blessed is my lot and my place on this plane
To think
such a thought and feel this wondrous feeling
I know...
I've been hurt too, still needing your healing
In order
to view and travel your path most exquisite,
Sublime
and glorious for the last and the least: the elite.
The elect
is despised, mocked and rejected
And this
is the reason why he's elected
His
light's so bright it hurts, calls for remorse
His soul's
not from here, his mind blends with yours
Pain or
release, rejection or oneness, knowledge or ignorance
I choose
whatever...a whiff of your fragrance, the holy essence
The
righteous and pure the fresh and ever new
I long for
my Lord, It's you I'll stick to like a glue...
Take me
along those paths once known but forgotten now
Refresh,
renew, reveal the truth of a pledge and a vow
The laws
of Heaven, knowledge once fathomed please now impart
On your
threshold I'll remain Lord, it's enough.
From your
doorstep I'll never depart.
Strength
of this line
[Before
any war begun peace was already provided, but there is no peace
like the one the Prince of Peace Himself provides]
When
torment begins comfort's provided
When
suffering breaks out you cannot fight it
But gently
fall, like a leaf... on the silky pillow case
Ease your
pain beside the fire or... in the fireplace
There's
your escape unknown to your kin
To
scholars of the hidden skilled in the unseen
They won't
find you there no matter what's their ploy
Fire burns
and kills, but not all, for you it's to enjoy
The wicked
fries and shrinks in pain
The
righteous basks and welcomes the flame
The hidden
truth's found in wind and thunder,
In
tempest, in need, in thirst and in hunger
The
righteous will fill his barns with corn
When
wicked laughs and bends in his scorn
He's
dressed in three: blue, scarlet and red
New wine
and bread will grace his white spread
My candles
flicker, melting white wax. The golden lamp sheds light and
sparks
The golden
goblet runs over with wine
Never
savored, exquisitely refined... and it is mine
The
chalice is mine, the table and spread
Those
barns of corn and plenty of bread
Now
legally mine, forever!
I've
increased, rose to my feat
My wealth
and bliss will never be measured with yards and feet
Tell me
what's right and tell me what's not.
Right is
for others to partake of your lot
Wrong is
to hurt inflicting pain
Bemire
your brother and look with disdain
But you
must be righteous, oh son of God
You must
be pure and leave behind
The tares,
field pebbles, stones and hard rocks
Make no
alarm, no worry, no fuss...those locks
Shall
break, keys shall be lost.
All tests
you've passed
They're
from long ago, time immemorial, alas...
They're
with you now, oh ancient one, from secrets unknown
-to the
lowly soul still clinching in hand... the ancestral cord.
You've
been set aside and awaited your birth
Your
soul's from heaven, not from this earth
The root
of Jesse, its mission's to save, redeem
For this
it was raised, shall be as it has been
The root
is sanctified and shall remain Mine
Nothing
will change the strength of this line.
If
you were a rock
[The
Lord's grace has no end... why not taking it to the no-limits by
seeing oneself as dust]
If you
were a rock I would not touch you
If you
were a stone I'd never lift you
But
because you're mere dust I'll protect you...
Of course
I will wheeze you,
I will
spin you through My corridors
You're not
a rock... just stand upon one
You are
not a lion... just have one inside
You're
nothing but like a horse which I'm riding Nothing...
A speck of
dust which I'm driving
Changing
places, situations, shine My light and bless
Crossing
seas and land till you return, whereas,
You know
the highs, you know the lows, the tears, the stress
You know
My hiding place where there's no war no need for fighting
You're not
the mighty just serve the Almighty
You are a
chalice which overflows with sweet wine
Each time
it's ###### others spread tables ready to dine
You're a
depiction upon this earth of things that were
Are still
to come, a medium, a channel,
My
silverware
How
Long?
[Soon we
shall see Him face to face]
How long
Oh Lord tempest must rage
How long
free birds must die in a cage
Eagles
once free nestling on peeks
Now fallen
to earth with broken wings
How long
will the innocent remain oppressed
The wicked
increase and seem to be blessed?
How long
the homeless must look at adversities?
The
orphan, the widow lack their necessities?
The
answer: till time's no more and death's defeated
Nights
fade away and suffering's deleted
When
graves be opened... light all around...
Until you
hear the mighty trumpet's sound
All clad
in white to judge the liars
I shall
arrive with My overcomers
From
ancient days from long ago
They'll
come and then... death be no more.
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