Serach And The Bones Of Joseph
Keeper of the hidden
bones, waiting, watching
who would ever
notice her,
look there?
Sometimes she releases
them in a field
and they become
ten commanding birds
circumventing the Nile.
She calls for them
and they turn into
a tree, two trunks
wound round each other -
slavery and freedom.
Sometimes they
nest in a song
she begins the
morning with.
She swaddles
them as if
a newborn
in plain flax
close to her chest -
who would ever
look there
into the heart
of an old woman?
One day they, like her
will become
a promised land.
Who would ever look there, into the heart of an old woman? As I peer into mine, and yours, I sense the treasure we have been building. The Mishkan, the Shuk,, the Beit Midrash are built with the bones. Even as ours may be losing some strength your writing fortifies us.
This is the poem I will carry with me today. Thank you, Elana, for looking there.
I am looking there and I saw two trunks wound around each other. One was fear and I’ve had to think about the other. I have come up with faith.
Fear (so much in the world, in our communities and in my family right now) and faith. Thankyou Elana. this truly invites my deep reflection today.