Sometimes I wonder
if Old Abe ever Got Tired
of being sent this way and that –
Go you!
Go for yourself.
Go for My sake
Go somewhere else now –
Down to Egypt and Up the Mountain.
Go.
Some people never leave home;
never see an ocean or a mountain
or an elephant
or snow or a moose or the Northern Lights
But me, I am descended from wanderers
I Go where I am Sent
It is a Blessing
It is Exhausting
It is a destiny, of sorts.
My people have a Land,
but we have been sent around the world –
sometimes scattered
sometimes seeking hope
sometimes returning.
We are exiles and we have been refugees
and we have been hunted
and we have survived
We have been dwellers in tents
strangers in strange lands
leaders and prophets,
farmers and inventors
we have shaped history and been shaped
by it
I wonder, as I wander
who would I be if I had never left home
if I had never been sent, or followed a call?
Who would we be if we had been left alone
to dwell on our land in peace?
And what would this world be like now
if we had not be scattered throughout it,
bearing the light of Torah on our backs
up mountains and down into narrow places
in the darkest and most hopeful of times?
It is not always easy to share the destiny
of sojourners
but if given the choice rather than
being chosen
I hope we would have embraced adventure,
put up our hands,
shouted Hinneni,
and stepped into the unknown
willingly
