summer of 1999

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