beshelach

Barak was warned he'd win no glory here
this week, the women get the credit due
commemorated twice, in prose, then shir
twin heroines in arms to every Jew
humiliated, Sisera must beg
a drink of water at a Kenite's tent
Yael gave him first milk, then a tent-peg
and waived the customary one night's rent
his mother waits, the daylight's growing dim
pathetic coda to the Sturm und Drang
there'll be no joyous homecoming for him
but Israelites will dance the whole night long
her hospitality won Yael fame
Devorah's half-forgotten, save in name

va'era

behind the Wilderness, Moshe kept sheep
a fugitive from Egypt and blood-debt
but now, there loomed the debt he'd have to keep
God keeps accounts, 'though pharaohs may forget
an age untold, the humble thornbush burned
with no observer to attest it's real
but now, this princely shepherd saw, and turned
in awe, but hoping to demur this deal
reluctant prophet, sick with palace life
whose Hebrew was a tongue of last resort
commissioned to abandon son, and wife
and spend his days petitioning at court
epiphany complete, he dons his shoes
and undertakes to liberate the Jews

perspective

a thornbush burning makes no spectacle
to hold a trembling nation rapt in awe
but starting intimate was suitable
to turn Moshe to study what he saw
explosive wonders mesmerize a crowd
and get the multitude into the street
but revelation need not be so loud
to reach a  humble shepherd on bare feet
against the cosmos we're the merest blip
asserting we're creation's lofty goal
a species on a diva's ego-trip
insisting ours must be the starring role
a still small voice that's only in your head
is all the hint you'll get that God's not dead