Lech Lecha

 בס״ד

Lech Lecha

Lech Lecha moments, come to each one of us,

At a time generally not of our choice,

Am I truly called to take this next step?

Am I really hearing His voice?

And to make matters worse, there isn’t just one,

So many, I had to stop countin’,

No matter how old, there’s always one more,

Like that bear, going over the mountain.

No task seems complete til the next one is done,

They’re connected, like links in a chain,

When nothing is next, maybe then I can rest,

What use is an Ark without rain?

If a shark doesn’t swim, he surely will drown,

By his motion he fills up his gills,

The person who sits, and looks not ahead,

Is soon pushing up daffodils.

So, though I am weary, and want to stand pat,

I know that to something I’m beckoned,

Like Avraham Avinu, who never stood still,

Not him. Not for even a second.

Noach

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Noach

On the 17th of Cheshvan,

The rain started down from heaven,

The earth would not dry out,

Until next Cheshvan…day 27.

Why is the Torah so specific,

To detail such arcana,

Such as the water started drying up,

B’davka, Rosh HaShanah?

Why the ten day separation,

From the start date ’til the end,

Not just 12 months, but 13,

What kind of message does this send?

I do not have the answers,

But it shouldn’t seem so strange,

That for rain we start a-prayin’,

When these dates come into range!

Ten days bein 17 and 7*,

Then from 17, ten more,

Just another of the mysteries,

Which we thank the Master for.

* In Israel, we start to say ותן טל ומטר on 7 Cheshvan

Bereishis

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Bereishis

The sixth day begins,

the sun sets in the west,

Adam opens his eyes,

he takes his first breath.

Before the next sunset,

he’ll name all creation,

be gifted with Chava,

succumb to temptation.

Exile from Eden,

a form of salvation,

endless life, without tshuva,

a sad situation.

Though the sun now grows dimmer,

though the winter is near,

though the ice may grow thick,

He’s still close, He is here.

Shemini Ateres/Simchas Torah/V'Zos HaBracha

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Shemini Atzeres/Simchas Torah/V'Zos HaBracha

No particular mitzvah for Shemini Atzeres,

But that is, perhaps, the greatest challenge,

No sukkah, no lulav, no wavings,

Just one last, shimmering drop of golden honey.

Shlomo HaMelech asked only for wisdom,

But is wisdom enough to bring simcha?

Is it prerequisite to see both the light and dark,

To find joy in the many shades of Torah?

We wed ourselves once again to the Shechina,

Two chasanim, each for a different beginning,

Seven circles we dance with her,

Our Kallah, our source of life and bina.

We started by declaring Melech,

We conclude by wedding Malka,

Somewhere in between, if the balance is right,

Joy becomes indistinguishable from wisdom.

V’zos HaBracha.

Shabbos Chol HaMoed Sukkos

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Shabbos Chol HaMoed Sukkos

The Torah rolls back to Shemos today,

Where we’re told very clear not to mingle,

Too keep far away from them and their gods,

And other such myths, like Kris Kringle. 

He tells us that He is a “jealous” God,

Now, if jealousy’s a sin, how is that?!

Is this something we’re ‘sposed to emulate?!

Calm down, and we’ll have a nice a chat.

Such misunderstandings can often occur,

So let me explain, my sweet moppet,

 Jealousy’s aim is to protect what is yours,

To want what’s Not yours, that’s to “covet”.

If God is so jealous ‘bout Am Yisroel,

It must be that He don’t want to lose us,

Which means, I suspect, He considers us His,

So keep your hands off us, Confucius.

Besides, He can’t covet,

The reason is this,

There’s nothing outside Him,

It’s already His.

Sukkos

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Sukkos

The garden has faded,

The fall harvest done,

The last bunch of thyme

In the sukkah is hung.

The basil is gone,

The parsley is finished,

The cucumbers wilted,

The tomatoes diminished.

We’ve called out to HaShem,

And prayed for His grace,

Now enclosed in His arms,

We can feel His embrace.

 Time to sit and take stock,

To give thanks for the land,

And be quietly grateful,

For the gifts from His hand.

Haazinu

 בס״ד

Haazinu

Songs of Moshe and of Dovid,

Like gentle waves, they break upon us, 

Not words alone, but music,

Notes, and rhythms, and harmonies.

From down the generations they come to us,

Each voice, each nusach, each trop,

Ineffable truths, heard differently now,

Echoing in the ears of our time.