fbpx
[additional-authors]
December 23, 2020

This poem was originally posted on January 2, 2020.

Like Joseph, I know what it’s like to
not have a father for decades.

Mine, hidden in the Egypt of Texas
pretending he was someone else

while I built my empire in
the land of California.

Like Joseph’s brothers, it was me
who showed up on his doorstep.

But I knew exactly who he was.
Unlike the brothers, I wasn’t there for wheat

or fancy coats. I just wanted to make sure
the space between would

no longer be measured in decades.
A cautionary lunch ensued

and then he brought me my sister
like Benjamin, only, a girl.

America became our land of Goshen
and we continue to flourish

Like the familial bond between Joseph
and his brothers, there is nothing to forgive.

We didn’t move to Texas, of course
the Egypt of our story.

I read ahead in the text and
it turns out things go south down there.

No-one wants to move twice.
But there is an airplane ticket in the future.

Next week, in fact. Round trip.
The first family lives on.


Rick Lupert, a poet, songleader and graphic designer, is the author of 23 books including “God Wrestler: A Poem for Every Torah Portion.”

Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.

Editor's Picks

Latest Articles

Shabbat Shalom, America

In the midst of our parties and barbeques, Shabbat is God’s birthday present to America to remind us that we still live in the greatest country on earth.

A Bisl Torah — Go Out Before Them

No matter if we assign ourselves the title of leader, we each lead in some respect, whether it’s leading as a parent, a supervisor, a friend, or a member of our neighborhoods.

Hineni: Choosing Torah

As always, we each have the power to choose to listen, to learn, and to grow, or we can shut our ears to that still, small voice. Are you listening? Are you willing? Are you here?

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.