Korach

 בס״ד

Korach

Korach’s gang was swallowed up

and a plague beset the Am

but his influence then ended

unlike Dahtan and Aviram.

“The land of milk and honey”

to mitzrayim they applied

heaping scorn upon a holy land

disparaged by the spies.

I’d have strapped them to a camel

and sent them back down south

and, if they lived, to then be drowned

in the Nile’s murky mouth.

“Tov ha’aretz meod meod”

Calev ben Yephunneh pleaded

and to any Jew whose worth his salt

this imperative is heeded.

One might have grounds to live in galus

mishpacha, parnassa, learning

but do not speak ill of the land

its our soul that you are spurning.

Shelach

 בס״ד

Shelach

When HaShem says to Moshe, “Shelach Lecha”,

too many options abound.

To Avraham His words,

were “Lech Lecha”, which,

has a much more compulsory sound.

Avraham questioned not the command,

he thought only to swiftly obey.

If Moshe alone,

 had come to the Land,

he’d have hotfooted in right away.

“Shelach Lecha” sounds like reluctant advice,

having little insistence behind it.

You can if you want, 

(but know there’s a chance,

that you won’t like the way that you find it.)

“Lech Lecha” doesn’t give you much choice,

one must rise to the challenge to do it.

But with rashus to eschew, 

what they knew they should do,

the meraglim went in, and they blew it.

Transpose if you can, the case of Iran,

“Shelach Lecha” once was an option.

but then “Lech Lecha” came,

threat of nuclear rain,

left us no choice, just like Hobson.*

* Hobson’s Choice: a free choice that is actually no choice at all

Beha'aloscha

 בס״ד

Beha’aloscha

It might have been a better choice,

The munn to cease, when raised our voice,

For it is the way, when lacking nothing,

To think you need some other something.

Would have been wiser to rely,

On food from earth, and not from sky,

Which we had a role in making,

Growing, raising, cooking, baking.

Our offerings brought true satisfaction,

Joy and achdus, born of action,

We filled our hearts, from what we gave,

Not just our stomachs, like some slave.

Some blame it on the erev rav,

That traded, for a flight of slav,

Was single heart that we had gained,

When love, not quail, upon us rained.

Naso

 בס״ד

Naso

In the shul where I grew up,

Above the Aron, with its cover,

Two lions there, each other faced,

The luchos guarding over.

That’s how it appeared to me,

When I was just a child,

I told my friends God spoke from there,

Between those lions wild.

How could I have known as Moshe knew,

In this parsha’s brief conclusion,

God’s song ascends the covered Ark,

‘Tween golden winged cheruvim.

That image still resides in me,

And when I feel disconnected,

I strain, in tears, to hear His voice,

As if from Mishkan, just erected.

Could it be that best His words we hear,

Not in our isolation,

But when one listens, and is heard,

 God joins the conversation?