Ode to Michal, Death Be Not Proud

by Yosef Gotlieb

 

 

Death assumed her acquiescence

As it dallied but loomed near

In the dimming light of her confinement

It wagered on silent surrender

An outrage, she would not concede.

 

As the waters of her being

Seeped into the timeless sand

She clutched the final drops

And forestalled the parting

With the iron of her soul.

 

Between the blows against the anvil

Amidst the bellowing gales of darkness

She sang out through the vicissitudes

“My body you may vanquish,

But you will never take my spirit.”

 

 

© Yosef Gotlieb, 2012. All rights reserved.