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The blossoms closed into buds
Singing only to themselves.
The sweet hand that guarded my heart
Stirred within my body.
I reached for you as you pulled away
And followed the arm's length
That linked us. I could hear
The dark pools filling, the breath you took
Rising over the waters.
I
felt the life leave me
With a gasp that gave me life.
No eyes opened to ask or to answer,
Yet then I knew you were another
That I had lost,
That you would never remember
Why the wound could not heal itself
Once we had awakened.
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And
the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man, and he slept;
and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the place with flesh instead
thereof. And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from the man, made
He a woman, and brought her to the man.
(Genesis 2:21-22)
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 From:
Howard Schwartz and Anthony Rudolf, eds., Voices Within the Ark:
The Modern Jewish Poets —
An International Anthology (New York: Morrow/Avon, 1980).
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Professor
Schwartz teaches creative writing, poetry writing, Jewish Studies
and Modern and Contemporary Literature (University of Missouri, St. Louis).
He has written and edited extensively in the areas of modern Jewish literature,
fiction, poetry, and mythology. |
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