Chukas

 בס״ד

Chukas

What is this Book of the Wars of HaShem?

It’s a mystery no one has solved,

To answer this riddle, our Rabbis and Sages,

Through the ages were deeply involved.

Were these simply stories the people would tell,

Or a book started by Avraham,

Or snippets from ballads our bards would bring,

Living history they’d sing with aplomb?

A record of things geographic/halachic,

Or a log maintained by the Am,

Is “The Book of God’s Torah” really its name,

Is it alluding to Shir shel Yam?

Is it simply a reference to Sefer Devarim,

Or a record of nations smitten,

A heavenly scroll that sits before God,

Or an untitled book, not yet written?

Ibn Ezra, Rashi, Targum Yerushalmi, Rambam,

Chizkuni, Rokeach, and Onkelos,

Midrash Agaddah, Ohr HaChaim, Ramban,

They’ve each something different to tell us.

Korach

 בס״ד

Korach

He humbly held the high ground,

As Korach, of Kahath, accused,

‘Twernt enough to bear the kelim,

His ego had been bruised.

And many sons of Reuven,

Joined in Korach’s schism,

Since their status as b'chorim,

Had been passed to the Levi’im.

Bnai Yisrael watched in awe,

As Korach’s crowd was swallowed,

But then took up his charges, once again,

A deadly outbreak followed.

A Levi had brought this on them,

Aaron saved ‘em, in this instance,

So for Levi'im, now, an extra task,

To make sure they keep their distance.

Shelach

 בס״ד

Shelach

They had conquered everyone around,

yet balked at what was promised,

afraid of those whose time was up,

dared not battle for what was already theirs.

So, too, in our time, the same homeland,

that they feared to claim as their own, 

we hesitate to call ours, before a scolding world,

afraid to recognize our own borders.

We can blast far removed targets,

we endure warheads of death,

unspeakable brutality, unrelenting lies and hate,

the heroic sacrifices of a courageous generation.

Yet, preferring to be strangers in our own land,

we even cede our Har Habayit,

and permit it to become,

a place for our enemies to lay their plots.

And Yehuda and Shomron, 

Our heart, the heartland which cradled us,

Languish, orphaned, beyond an imaginary line,

A green smudge, recognized by no one, but ourselves.

Beha'aloscha

 בס״ד

Beha’aloscha

Revelations rarely last,

The present supersedes the past,

Eyes which once beheld a miracle,

Are now seduced by vision physical.

Did it really happen as is taught,

That He, from slaves, a nation brought,

From flaming forge, ejected dross,

Are we His people…or an albatross?

It only took a three day trek,

To hang ourselves around His neck,

Seeking pretexts, from our fears,

To raise an outcry to His ears.

O People, of short memory born,

Be not quick to feel forlorn,

’Twas not a dream, as if asleep,

Nay, a vision true, for us to keep.

Naso/Shavuos

 בס״ד

Naso/Shavuos

The Voice, it speaks, and Moshe hears,

for us…

even if The Voice comes near,

are we e’re disposed to give it ear?

It wasn’t from The Voice, I fear,

the jealous husband brought her here,

to taste the bitter, murky brew,

 her virtue, for to make it clear?

Though HaShem desires to bring us near,

is it The Voice the nazir hears,

when he chooses to eschew,

the many joys that make life dear?

We heard The Voice at Sinai, clear,

from atop the shrouded mountain, drear,

“keep your distance” The Voice declared,

“do not come too near!”

Should we be inclined to turn to voices,

to determine how to make our choices,

is it The Voice we think we hear,

or our own internal noises?

Bamidbar

 בס״ד

Bamidbar

Leah’s sons, to the east and south,

Including those of Zilpah,

Rochel’s to the west and north,

Along with those of Bilhah.

The one exception to the rule,

In the machane of Dan,

Dan and Naftali, of Bilhah’s sons,

But Asher, a Zilpah man.

Mixed they marched, behind the rest,

Naftali, Dan, and Asher,

They gathered up the stragglers,

Never asking, “who's your mother”.

Fraternal concord, by design,

Beyond maternal clan,

Essential, so no bias rends,

The safety net of D-A-N ?

Behar-Bechukosai

 בס״ד

Behar-Bechukosai

I may embrace you, or give you a kick

If the carrot don’t work, I’ll bring out the stick

You are so fickle

It can be assumed

You need to be warned, I’ll “lower the boom”?

Can love be aroused through fear and threats?

Obedience compelled through epithets?

Was it for this

You raised us from the pit

And bade the storm-tossed sea to split?

All those boded terrors came to pass

From the first one, to the last

We cling to You

Await the dawn

Not from dread - but love - we carry on.