Paradise?
- Leann Shamash
- 23 hours ago
- 4 min read
#shelach #shlach #shlachlech #shelachlech #numbers #bamidbar #mygarden #thespies #wordshavewings #dvartorah #thejoyofgardening #mymessygarden
Hello!
Parshat Sh'lach is a consequential parsha; one from which there is no return. Although the parsha speaks about tzitzit, the idea of taking challah and concludes with the strange story of the Sabbath wood gatherer, it is the story of the scouts or sometimes referred to as the spies that changes the trajectory of our story.
In the story of the scouts, the Hebrews are almost ready to enter into The Land. Before they enter Moshe asks twelve well appointed, distinguished men to scout out The Land. Moshe gives them a list of questions to answer, including both open ended and answer specific questions, including what type of land it is, to bring back produce (grapes are specified) from the Land and to scout out the inhabitants.
The scouts return from their expedition and with the exception of Calev and Yehoshua, the scouts bring back frightening reports. They returned fearful and insecure in the people's abilities of the Hebrews to conquer the people Canaanites. God is furious at these unacceptable accounts and in what seems to be a moment of complete reversal, the Hebrews are told that they will die in the desert and it is only the next generation that will enter The Land.
It is interesting that two people could see The Land so differently than the other ten scouts.
In some ways this is not surprising for we all see things differently. If I asked you to view a complicated scene, I am certain that your perception would be different than mine. How we see things is colored by our moods, our histories, our need for certain prerequesites for order or chaos, for details and for big pictures.
I'll take you into my garden here for an example.
Before we go into the garden, I wish you a peaceful Shabbat.
Keep learning, keep growing!
Leann
Paradise?
I don’t have to travel far to reach paradise
Stepping into my garden I have a view;
each day a little different.
I see
flaming colors,
whorls of delicate petals.
slender tendrils,
curling and twisting,
seeking the sun.
Bees seek their spot while moths flutter silently.
(How I wish I could hear their sound!)
a geometry of leaves,
so many,
smooth, spiny, waxy, hairy
with a full pallet of greens, grays and yellows.
Words cannot do justice to The Garden,
this miniature paradise.
Where else can one inhale the scent of mint underfoot,
feel oil of thyme on one's fingers?
I look up and grapes rise overhead,
Each as small as the iris in your eye.
The beauty of my garden is the essence of blessing.
It is the She'hecheyanu each time I step onto its path.
It is what I imagine Gan Eden might have been.
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When others see my garden they see a mess.
It is crowded and they see a lack of order.
It must seem,
somewhat haphazard,
unplanned and crowded.
In the jumble of this miniature jungle,
perhaps one misses
the beauty of a single blossom.
They do not see what I see.
I do not see what they see.
My precious garden,
so important to me,
is seen many ways,
happily, critically, or
or perhaps just irrelevant.
Something lost in translation.
but with their view being so different
they fail to touch,
to smell,
to witness small miracles.
These many ways to see a garden are just a small example of how we see the world.
Each of us see it so differently.
Some see The Garden and see goodness and plenty
while others see The Garden and step away.
It is too much for them.
There is too much to behold
They are overwhelmed,
not eager to return,
at least not quite yet.
Perhaps it will be another day,
or a week,
or maybe,
even though I will be long gone,
perhaps it will take forty years.
Other Posts From Words Have Wings on Parshat Shelach
Being Bill Buckner
Oh well, this is about the Boston Red Sox!
Grasshopper Written in 2023, this poem refers to how the Israelites refer to themselves as grasshoppers. It is a poem about self image.
If Only Written in 2022, this is about looking back and regrets.
The Land of Grapes Written in 2022, Is a poem about the regrets of the Israelites after the incidents of the scouts.
A Thread of Blue Written in 2021, this is about the thread of blue in tzitzit.
Those Who Fell in the Desert Written in 2021, this is a poem that examines the failures of the generation that died in the desert.
Dream of Blue- Written in 2025, this is another poem about that beautiful, magical color blue found in the fringes.
In this photo you will find comfrey leaves, flag iris, bee balm almost ready to flowers, swamp milkweed not quite at the flowring stage. In the background is a grape vine I have been trying to train and some tools. You'll also see a potted olive tree. To the left of the garden you will see a quince tree, which we have had to trim extensively because it isn't doing well.
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