Yehudah, I Make You Mine

Yehudah, I Make You Mine

From out of the banks of the muddy 

Jordan River, I make you 

Mine. 

Into shape I press the grit, into shape

I knead the clay 

And your body clings to my fingers.

I knead and a verb puts you in motion.

I cut and I layer 

and an adjective fleshes out your shape.

I slap and I roll 

and a rhyme gives you weight.

I model and I sculpt

and a noun marks you as a thing. 

With a name, I form you in my image

(Your name is on my tongue).

With a name, I firm you up

(I will never stop saying it).

With a name, I affirm you

(It is always in mind).

With a name 

I call you 

Mine.

I give you the world

And everything that's in it. 

To you I commend my spirit. 

Your face emerges from the dark 

Of the hill

That is your home

Where you will 

Be for me a comfort in the darkness

Of pogroms and holocausts. 

Your eyes are of stone,

Your hair is of grass,

Your flesh is clay 

& your mouth? 

Let my mouth do the talking.