"Father, poor Egyptians, too beautiful,
ever feel as if in some stage's
bit-part performance, a dutiful
actress earning gilded wages.
Peering eyes, tirelessly follow,
eagle-visioned in observance,
we, the targets, their talons allow
no escape, nothing left to chance.
Than let them leer, dream my bed,
abase my soul until it dies,
sell to righteous Abram instead!
Let Hagar's honor none despise"
An upright man, to gift his wife
whose beauty turned kingly eyes,
unknowingly, bought firstborn life
and two nation's destined surprise.
My mistress would from me a scion grow,
her barren ageing womb despairing,
and I am proud a righteous man to know
as honored vessel for his heir preparing.
Blessed by growing womb and a thoughtless pride,
Sarai I observed with unconcealed contempt;
a burden which the master rectified,
though justice fair, I fled to be exempt.
A desert well, an angel of the Lord
called out, "Name him Ishmael, 'He hears',
his descendents, a numbered horde.
Return to her who speaks your name with tears."
Abram to Abraham, the day the angels came,
Sarai to Sarah, and a promise made as well,
a womb too old to birth would be her fame
as on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone fell.
Her barrenness has bloomed the promised rose,
decades dead the paps that flow new life
to Isaac, 'he laughs' , a name the angel chose
when son be born that smirking ancient wife.
A world too wide to hold a nomad's tents
became too small for both the master's sons.
The wife he chose. With Hagar he dispensed
his eldest to the burning desert suns.
He sent a son he loved with all his heart,
not knowing how or where his pathway lie,
by Him, whose word had led him from the start,
assured this future prince He would supply.
Women of the Word
Poems From the Goober Tree http://nathoo.wustl.edu/goober_tree.htm