Somewhere in the Midrash
she waits to rise:
Lilith, first wife
of Adam
couldn't be made to
do it missionary-style
and somewhere in the tree
of life I sit:
hurling apples
at modern-day Eves
poking a tongue out
I divide hands of
faith between mother
and father
between amulets of
Senoy
Sansenoy
Semangelof-
-at once protector
ancient suffragette
ripened womb and
Judaic Kali-
this woman lives in me:
some blue-eyed Odelia,
face-forward in the past
toward the tomb
of Rachel
my unknown mother
but felt in my bones
aching to know
(the feeling begins)
the meaning of holy
(so it is written)
the true name of G-d
(so it shall be).
10 September, 2004
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