A mighty ox was struck, but strove
To live up to his Father’s code
In the dungeon, on the throne.
Yosef knew he was not alone:
Hashem before him, in every case
Bestowing on Yosef favor and grace.
No test he endured could displace
The memory of his father’s face;
A son of Israel he’d remain
Unbroken, the golden chain.
When he knew his time had come to die,
Yosef gathered his brothers nigh;
Forgave all, once more
As clear as day
Hashem intended it this way.
Pakod yifkod, His promise is true,
G-d will surely remember you.
Salvation, the dispatch these words bode,
They are the redeemer’s code.
Yosef doubled the phrase to show
It had come from their father, Yaakov.
Moshe, our shepherd and aegis,
Was raised as a prince in Pharaoh’s palace.
He hadn’t access to the Hebrew traditions,
It had to be Hashem’s transmission
Standing against an empire;
Moshe’s odds were slim
But the Hebrew slaves believed in him.
They had no power, no weapons,
Nowhere else to go,
Only a message from Yosef
From two centuries ago.
But, just as HaKadosh Baruch Hu
Remembered Sarah Imeinu
When the promise to Avraham came through,
G-d would deliver them, this they knew;
The impossible made possible,
Hashem’s will, unstoppable.
“Pakod” means to be lacking,
Its g’matria 190,
Was minused from the 400-year decree
Of Egyptian exile and slavery;
The intensifying slavery condensed
So that 190 years could be dispensed.
Sometimes our journey
Of life includes
Souls of chaos, vicissitudes.
There’ll be times, in our darkest hour,
When speaking the truth
Is our only power.
Take your hand off that bible,
Sleepy Joe;
Who’d swear you in, Pinocchio?!
This still isn’t Venezuela, so
You’ve still got five more states to snow!
A thousand like you
Have come and gone;
Your legacy:
A gargantuan con.
Sometimes we’re put in a colander,
Which Hashem will shake and disconcert,
To see who will fall through the holes,
And who knows
Who’s at the controls?
Though life brings jolts
We can’t anticipate,
Hashem will one day, again,
Set this mad world straight.
Hang on, don’t be fazed
By the rigmarole.
Remember the code,
Don’t fall through the holes.
By Sharon Marcus