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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.