January 5–11 ❘ Jochebed
Jochebed
I follow Moses too closely—
a mother who watches secretly
from across a great distance
will sometimes hover.
The night I saw him in midst of vision,
God’s glory was veiled from me
though it burned like reflected bonfire
from my son’s face,
but I saw the shining man afterward,
gilded pharaoh in painted pomp.
I feared Rameses had found him
at last. Hands pressed to mouth,
I cried in my mind,
You cannot have him!
The being sprouted claws and tore
like furious falcon-headed god
screaming for blood.
Such bitterness I hadn’t seen
since the day I set my baby in the river
in desperate last effort to save him.
Knee-deep in mud and obscured
by whispering reeds,
God heard every word I drummed
unceasingly at heaven’s door.
He answered then
as He does now.
I suppose He knows well
how to watch and hover
and wait for the moment when
a child finally cries out.
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