For centuries, we worked
Under ruthless conditions,
Forced and oppressed,
Driven by the whip of the bitterest of beasts.
We built Egyptian cities,
Storehouse cities for Pharoah.
Work.
With clay and straw we made bricks
And connected them with mortar.
Work.
Our numbers grew in proportion to the bricks made.
More bricks, more Jews.
More bricks, more Jews.
Fury flew, punishment instituted,
Triple the pain, triple the work.
Triple the bricks, triple the Jews.
Work, work, work.
Harshly regal decrees flowed down through the chain of command,
For centuries,
For generations,
For a lifetime,
For days, in the unrelenting sun.
Until exodus.
A sea of humanity leaving an oppressive state,
Experiencing deliverance,
Walking toward freedom.
Water and food supplied through rock and dew,
Sustenance given through days of a different kind of work,
Collect for six days, rest for one.
Holy decrees flowed down from the mountain,
One through ten,
Oh but the sweetness of the fourth.
Written in stone formed during creation,
“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.”
Let the clay dry under your nails,
Just as the clay dried under Mine
On that first seventh day.
Holy.
Restful.
Sabbath.
