My great-grandmother’s china cups
your grandmother’s candlesticks
my father’s thick Hebrew still echoing
your uncle’s declaration
my brother’s courage and
your sister’s declaration.
Back and forth the weaver’s shuttle flashes
drawing threads for the cloth.
My mother gardening with her G-d
the railroad hat your father wore
my grandfather exalting tolerance
dollar bill from your grandfather’s grocery.
All of the marriages, promises
all the lives and deaths behind us
all the way back to the Red Sea’s crossing
and all the children chanting now:
All of that love is woven into
the way the women dance.
your grandmother’s candlesticks
my father’s thick Hebrew still echoing
your uncle’s declaration
my brother’s courage and
your sister’s declaration.
Back and forth the weaver’s shuttle flashes
drawing threads for the cloth.
My mother gardening with her G-d
the railroad hat your father wore
my grandfather exalting tolerance
dollar bill from your grandfather’s grocery.
All of the marriages, promises
all the lives and deaths behind us
all the way back to the Red Sea’s crossing
and all the children chanting now:
All of that love is woven into
the way the women dance.
Miriam dancing: art by the poet.
