What else is there to say?
by Olivia Gwyn
He made love to me like my body was a miracle
and now a miracle is forming inside me
And I worry you forget that
I’ve never done this before
But the Giver of life put life-giving in my veins
where my blood flows and pours out
and it is an outpouring of love
My daughter is born of blood sweat and tears
like you
from the body of a woman
Holy holy holy
is the Lord God
in the dirt, covered in blood
from the legs of a girl
who had never done this before
You said ‘do not be afraid’
and I bite my tongue to keep from rebuking you
I imagine the angels words
ringing in her ears
as she watched you
covered in your own blood
hit the dirt
'Afraid'? My God
There are not words for what she felt
as she wished you back to the
blessed and cursed dirt
where you lay crying and alive
and covered in her own blood
My God, my God, why—
I believe in the dark that
you know a mother’s grief better than I
So when you say,
‘I will not leave you as orphans,
I will come to you’
I am begging you
bent over my steering wheel
pressing my palms to my eyes
unable to breathe
against the weight of a dying people
I beg you to come to Palestine
as a destroyer
and a mother
like a river in a dry land
'Let my people go'
I am a broken tape—
what else is there to say?
“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dream. Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy… Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negeb! Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.”
Psalm 126
