The warming glow of Sabbath light
enfolds us with a golden hue.
Angry street fires pierce the night,
kindled by rage at deaths undue.
Turn not aside… this is Torah, too.
Shavuot—we arrive to accept the order,
from foreign land to Sinai view.
Modern nomads crowded our border,
families cleaved as the gathering grew.
Protecting the weak… this is Torah, too.
Another week turns and returns,
bringing spice-box scents to the faithful few,
Mingles with acrid smoke from living urn,
the Maker’s Edens burn anew.
Tikkun Olam… this Torah, too.
The Purim play yields joyful cries,
as nasty Haman receives his due.
The cruel sun sets on aged eyes,
ignored, gazing inward at years which flew.
Forgetting none… this is Torah, too.
We must do more than bear witness, me and you;
We must rise up always and Justice pursue;
We must face these sins as befits Gentile and Jew;
Because most assuredly… this is Torah, too.
