Shemos

 בס״ד

Shemos

From sun-baked straw, and Nile mud,

Reddened with our children’s blood,

We cut and kilned our blocks of brick,

Under threat of lash and stick.

Not caring what the slabs were for,

Unlike that tower, in Shinar,

Where they sought to conquer God,

With purpose, hefted high their hods.

The bricks we made, they had no use,

They served to pile on abuse,

To crush us, that’s what was required,

Brick, after sodden brick, we fired.

We worked until our hands were raw,

And then they took away the straw,

With no objective, this decree,

Just to break us, you and me.

O Brick, you misbegotten clone,

Are an impostor, who masquerades as stone,

But the brickwork resting ‘neath God’s feet,

Is of sapphire, with heaven’s light replete*.

* Shemos 24:10, Parshas Mishpatim

Vayechi

 בס״ד

Vayechi

With visionless eyes, as the galus grows dark

Yaakov blesses his sons, yet he sees every spark.

Adam saw all the beasts, while Eden was bright

Called them by name, it was clear in his sight.

Some eyes can see, so long as it’s light

Others can pierce through the thickness of night.

Whose insight was greater, I’m not one to say

But using night vision seems tougher than day.

For Adam the difference ‘tween inside and out

Wasn’t so hidden, there wasn’t much doubt. 

But Yaakov looks deeper, with eyes growing dim

Obscured is the outside, he just sees the in.

As Bereishis was started, so now it ends

From darkness to darkness, and all that portends.

The starlight will weaken, all will seem drear

As we wait in our chains for the moon to appear.