As We Come and Go – A poem for Parsha Beha’alotcha (Aliyah 5)

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[Jethro] said to him, I won't go, for I will go to my land and my birthplace.

The world is a much smaller place than it used to be.
Which is, of course, not true as the world is exactly
the same size as it used to be.

It is merely our ability to traverse it and connect with
those who live in what used to be regarded as
immeasurable distances which has grown smaller.

I have close friends who I almost never see.
But hardly a second goes by that I don’t receive
an electronic update from them letting me know

all the minutiae of their comings and goings.
So when I had the opportunity to dwell in their
physical presence recently, we barely

put down our phones to hug each other before
the conversation, which had never stopped, continued.
There were obligatory hugs as we breathed the same air

and went about our days until the inevitable
airport drop-off came and off we went,
our messaging devices in hand, as if it never happened.

How lucky we are to have the technology to be so close
no matter what continent our feet are on.
Not like when Jethro said he wanted to go home

instead of off into the desert with the rest of us.
Back then, this kind of decision meant you might never
see someone again. We don’t know if he came with or went

and our sacred text doesn’t work like the Find My app.
So when someone says goodbye to you in an airport
receive it with the weight it deserves.

The pull of home is strong.
But the arms of your friends –
those will last a lifetime in the desert.

These poems are offered free for your enjoyment. If you use them as part of an event, meeting, educational or liturgical setting, please consider tipping the author.

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