We’ve been in the shadow of this mountain for almost a year.
And now, with specific instructions (our history is never detailed
without specific instructions) we walk away
towards a place we once did not know, and now is
a vague memory. A place, that if you were to look at
on a map should only take a day or so to get to.
But this is the one task that doesn’t come with
specific instructions. And so a generation of people
disappear into the desert, as we make our way
with manna raining out of the sky, because who doesn’t
love a free meal? And apparently the answer is us
because the journey is arduous (it’s so much easier
to sit at the base of a mountain than to follow a cloud
into the wilderness) and we won’t take a step further
without meat. So Moses appeals to God, and God promises
meat will soon come out of our noses, which sounds like
a lot of meat, but, despite my vegetarianism, I don’t even
want to eat a cucumber that came out of someone’s nose.
But at least we know the suggestion box is working.
And on the way, after quail meat flies out of the sea for
us to gather up and eat, but not gluttonously because that
leads to death by plague, Moses decides to become celibate
which, honestly, is six or seven other poems worth of
discussion, but suffice it to say his sister, Miriam
isn’t pleased, and complains, because that’s what we do
in every situation, complain, and though the punishment
seems a strange match for the crime, she gets leprosy.
So, I guess, watch your tongues of dissatisfaction, and
enjoy whatever rains out of the sky for you to eat, as most
people don’t have the benefit of anything they need
raining out of the sky, even rain, am I right Californians?
And let’s cry for help for anyone with any affliction.
Like Moses did for his sister. The fewest words are
all we need. Please, God, heal her, or him, or them.
Make us whole as we march to the sound of Your trumpets
towards a land we’d like to know again.