And Isaac went out to meditate in the field at the eventide:
and he lifted up his eyes, and saw, and, behold …
You remember, oh Isaac, the face of the bride
From the Genesis foothills of dreaming’s beginning
Arriving with dusk as the sunset was bringing
The camel-bells music, the end of the ride?
The nomadic return of a hope that had died
Like a riverbed flooding and suddenly greening
A promise fulfilled, flowing into the evening
The song and the rhythm of life undenied.
I remember the landscapes, the names, the dark faces
A golden Havilah of biblical places
the handclapping chants overcoding a mystery.
Timeless recurrence; eternity imminent
Israelite graves I beheld on that continent . . .
Songs of Rebecca: the morning of history.