Yehoram was the son
Of King Ach’av and Queen Izevel;
He ruled as the ninth king
In Northern Israel.
The prophet Elisha
Warned Yehoram
To eliminate the bad –
The idol worship of Baal,
Imposed by Mom and Dad.
Yehoram partly did so,
But it was just a façade;
He wasn’t willing to return
To the worship
Of Hashem, the True G-d.
False prophets and idols
Were still worshipped
Everywhere;
The seven-year drought
This brought about
Was a calamitous affair.
During his brother Achazyah’s
Short reign,
Mesha the Moabite king,
Who had been paying tribute,
Staged an uprising;
Captured several cities of Reuven,
Then, “In honor of their god, K’mosh,”
Slaughtered the inhabitants
Before the revolt was quashed.
United with Yehoshafat,
King of Judah,
With Edom’s vassal king, the three
Took revenge against Moav,
Succeeding miraculously.
But, now at the
Gate of Samaria,
Aramean forces
Were laying siege;
Death came from hunger,
And being under attack constantly.
The prophet Elisha,
Amid the calamity, walks in;
His prophesy: The next day,
A miracle would begin:
Food would be so plentiful
A sa’ah of flour, two of barley,
Would cost but a shekel.
Yehoram’s courtier spoke out,
He couldn’t help but heckle:
“Behold, if Hashem were to make
Windows in the sky,
Could such a thing happen?”
As prophesied, the very next day,
The miracle kicked in.
Hashem caused the enemy, Aram,
To hear chariots and horsemen;
Thinking it an impending massive attack,
Hittite or Egyptian,
They fled their encampment
In a panic,
Leaving everything behind:
Treasure, supplies and
A bumper crop of food,
Four m’tzora’im did find.
They said, let us not wait,
Brought King Yehoram the news;
The day was, indeed, a day of good –
Hashem still loves the Jews.
Our world is again in chaos,
Still ruled by hollow kings;
It still pays to remember
Just Who is running things.
HaKadosh Baruch Hu
Has windows in heaven,
Wellsprings in the great deep
From His hand arrives,
Everything in our lives,
From our birth, until we sleep;
Even when things look hopeless,
We must never say die.
Salvation waits
Just beyond our gates,
From His windows
In the sky.
By Sharon Marcus