And Then Moses Was There by Loretta Miles Tollefson

Author:Loretta Miles Tollefson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Old Testament, Bible, Christianity, Christian poetry, religious poetry, Moses, Pharoah, Jezebel, inspirational poetry
Publisher: LLT Press
Published: 2016-10-19T00:00:00+00:00

RUTH AND NAOMI

. . . and the woman was left of her two sons and her husband . . . Wherefore she went forth out of the place where she was, and her two daughters in law with her; and they went on the way to return unto the land of Judah . . . And [Naomi] said, Behold, thy sister in law is gone back unto her people, and unto her gods: return thou after thy sister in law. And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. (Ruth 1:5-16)

[And Ruth] . . . did according to all that her mother in law bade her. (Ruth 3:6)

So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his wife: . . . And the women said unto Naomi, Blessed be the LORD, which hath not left thee this day without a kinsman. (Ruth 4:13)

Ruth

The old woman bade me

go. The caravan with

its safe passage

was waiting. She

would willingly see me

travel on her

Sabbath if it would find

me my people. I need

only walk through

the hut’s door to return

to my parents, my friends,

the walls once so

familiar to me. I

gathered my possessions.

The ring he had

placed on my finger that

his parents had saved so

carefully for.

The sandals his father

had patiently knotted

with age gnarled hands.

The head scarf that mothering

love had made far softer than

mere cotton should

be. My sister-in-law

had tied her small bundle,

kissed the wrinkled

cheeks, stepped through the door. I

fumbled with the pots the

old woman had

helped me design. Somehow

the bundle was tied. I

stood in the door

looking at the hills. The

fields were heavy with grain.

My eyelids closed

against the bright sun. She

sat quietly on her

mat, watching me

with soft eyes. My leaving

would increase her

hardship but she only

bade me gently to go.

Dusk was falling

on the vine covered hills.

Her Sabbath had come. Still

she bade me go.

How many Sabbaths had

I helped her prepare for,

as a daughter

in the house? I found my

feet turning away from

the door. I placed

my bundle again on

its shelf and fumblingly

lighted the lamp.

Naomi

There are those who

say I had it all planned, a careful

diagram etched

into the hard packed floor

of our small hut, of my heart.

If only they knew.

The craving for justice for this

sweet, slim girl who had

followed me to a land

full of ways strange to her.

The knowledge

that there would be no reproach

if she spent all her years

sharing my pittance,

eking out the oil

of our lives.

The fear that my people’s

traditions would be insufficient

to the need she didn’t know she possessed.

How they haunted me.

There was no foreknowledge here, only

the urge to gently nudge

her forward, give counsel

I prayed would suffice, bow

my small frame before

the power that directed her steps.

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