Daughter of Abraham

Wind, a blessed blood, cuts, burns, tears skin. Sand, sanctified, seizes itself broken. Waves, selfish and seeing, wash a sinful world. I, wandering, am intent but unknown.

I was born in this place. I know its love. I know its blood. It is scattered on an alter long destroyed. My home, destroyed. The sacred, unapproachable heart, destroyed. But what about my heart? The sun burns and the stars guide, the moon waits and the ground grows. Ceaseless am I with the heavens. Hesitant, my heart beats with the sun and moon. Is the sun and moon. Is it, too, sacred? Is it, too, pure? Is it, too, clean? Clean enough to enter the heart of a home destroyed before my birth?

Innerness is the curse of my people. It is my curse. Inside my breast, a heart beats. Inside myself, blood flows. Inside my saline body is a sacred blood – sacred, but not my own. It is possessed. Possessed by father and my brothers, priests, a priestly clan, chosen by God. But not me. God’s choice is my curse, knowledge of good and evil is my curse, being a people is my curse. We are scattered, and I am alone.

Sand, sanctified, flows. Among its waves, among its rocks, I stand. My heart breaks for a home I cannot love. Alone, here, I am comfortable. My heart, here, swells sanctified and beating. In the desert, God is everywhere. In the desert, God is the rocks and God is the waves. I am alone. God is everything in the desert, and here I am God.

May the tribes never be reunited, for we are a cursed people. May we never be united, for scattered we are strong. May we never be united, for my people are my strength. While I wander, we wander. While we wander, I flow. As my heart beats, so the sun turns. As the sun turns, so I blow my wind upon the deep. So saith I, for I am the Lord.

Leave a Reply