She is looking up while walking on Capital Hill -

Miriam

 

Tia Pliskow

 

She is looking up while walking on Capital Hill -
She sees a gull and a crow chasing each other through the motive sky
Toward a canter of history they fly.
Her name is Miriam.

Unique geography, that place,
Mountains, desert, beach:
You could slimb and burn and swim
All in the same day, if you wanted to.
A professor stands atop the Mount of Olives, facing Seattle
Hoping to reclaim his daughter, Miriam.

This child, this woman I know, became more and more observant,
Raised in this land, dabbling in ancient Judaica.
There she received her identity and was confident in it.
Her father taught her that we are chosen,
but the purpose wasn't clarified.
And when she married a Spanish man, her father cried and cried.

All is water, mayim, water, for Miriam's child.
And I wake in the hours neither night nor day,
From dreams of drowning with no one to rescue me.
Only to go and swim
In the sea with Miriam.

Miriam says that when she was twelve,
Her father was all she knew.
She lived his words and spoke his life
And never questioned who we may choose.
One choice, and then another, and she ends up on Capital Hill.

And she always wears the Star of David
While teaching English to her migrant workers
And treats them to a rare and shy smile
Under the motive sky.
She says: Father, my name is Miriam.

 

 

 

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2007 Women in Judaism, Inc.

 

 



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