Moshe (Poem)

I saw you there,

cradled in the deep blue,

small hands reaching for light,

a star called down just for you.

I saw you there,

a distant, tiny, possible.

A joy, finally, carved by me,

amidst and despite

all the grist i have ground.

And perhaps,

I could have been as a Sarah to you,

yet the flags of your fathers would not wash blue.

And I would not gift you the guilt of another's blood,

like a first born burden.

So, I will push you on down the river,

in this small basket, true and steady,

through the reeds.

I will give you up to Pharaoh's daughter,

for I know she will find you there.

among the bulrushes and crocodiles.

And she will give you a name.

As I cannot.