Yaakov’s life was all hard knocks,
Filled with ordeals and aftershocks,
Family agendas and aggravations,
Trauma and drama,
Trials and tribulations.
Memories of Yosef,
His long-lost son,
Filled Yaakov with trepidation;
He’d seen Yosef’s fine coat
Bloody and torn;
How could he have sent him
To face his brothers’ scorn?
Building the 12 Tribes
Had been Yaakov’s life mission,
But it would never reach fruition;
The Sh’chinah was gone
From that sad day forward,
Prophecy departed,
No song or music was heard.
Then one day, Yaakov did hear
The notes of a song
Reviving his spirit;
As they drifted along,
It was Asher’s daughter, Serach,
Yaakov’s grandchild,
Singing the news of Yosef
In a voice sweet and mild.
It was the gentle balm needed
To diffuse the shock;
Chains of grief on his heart
Began to unlock.
Yosef was alive!
Ruling over all Egypt,
Risen to viceroy,
It was all in the script!
The suffering he’d gone through,
The pain of defeat;
The tribes would assemble,
United, complete.
As Yaakov processed Serach’s message,
His logic held it aloof;
Then the Torah they’d last learned,
Gave ironclad proof:
Yosef’s Torah, unforsaken,
Was to Yaakov, more thrilling
Than the news
That Yosef had become king!
To all of you Republicans
Who lost your grip,
Who rolled over
And abandoned ship,
After benefiting for many years
In lucrative political careers,
Who sold out; you’ve become a party to theft,
Sold out Democracy to the Socialist left.
All you cowardly, bureaucratic heavy-hitters,
You’re nothing but a bunch of quitters!
The US may survive,
For we keep hope alive,
But your standing will take
A deserved nose-dive!
Sometimes it may seem
That life is cold,
The hand we’ve been dealt
Is meant to fold;
Give up already,
All is lost, we’re told.
Sometimes we’re stuck
In a holding pattern,
Ambiguous, as the rings of Saturn;
But through every blow and aberration,
The Rock of Yaakov
Is the Shield of our salvation;
Filled with troubles, his whole life,
Yaakov had no exemption,
But his persistence through hardship
Led to redemption.
Let’s try to remember Serach’s song
When our burdens are heavy;
The road troubled and long
As Yaakov heard it way back when.
May we hear Serach’s song again,
Softly dispelling all the hurt and lies,
Bringing light and gladness to our eyes.
By Sharon Marcus
