Midrash: Sarah to Abraham

Beneath a twilit sky I understand
there are some things I will never know.
There is someone I will never be. You said,
Say that you are my sister
so it will go well for me.

Not the first time I lost one precious piece
of my story. Not knowing then that you’d require
even more from me years hence: that you’d place
our hard-won son upon a pyre.

Now in fading light I see a hundred dances
never danced; a tent not entered; stories
never told; a feast prepared, left untouched.
And already I am sad and old

for all people, and all time.
Now I say to you: Sing to me the stories
of myself, the ones I never knew
or have forgotten. Look at me

and count the moon the sun each star
spun across the skies
like jewels, each one. Look at me.
Speak the stories brimming in your eyes.


Poet's note:  The Midrashim (plural of midrash) is a body of Jewish sacred literature that, through creative interpretation of a text, attempts to add depth and meaning to it.  I have heard Midrash described as "giving voice to the voiceless, and adding flesh to the bones" of a story.  This poem attempts to give voice to Sarah, the wife of Abraham, from the book of Genesis.

Post edited 2/24/09 to update labels