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| Song of Miriam And Miriam the Prophetess, sister of Aaron, Took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went with her With timbrels and with dances, And Miriam answered them: Sing to the Lord who has triumphed gloriously, Who has cast the horse and rider to the sea, And delivered us through a womb of tears To be born upon this shore a free people. Sing to the One who heard our pain, The cries of our travail, And came to our aid like a midwife With sure and steady hand to guide us out and ease our fevered brow With the cooling touch of justice. No more shall the daughters of Israel Grieve with empty arms For babies tossed upon the hungry Nile, And for husbands broken with enslavement, For, now, the drowners have met the rushing waters of our avenging God And are swept away to nothingness. Those who brought us down and built their houses with our blood Lie now entombed In the mud that we used to raise their lofty tombs Brick by brick, body by body. Sing, yet, a song of consolation for the mothers in Egypt Who will weep tonight as we have wept, For we know what it is to lose and to be lost. But now we are found and led By fire and by cloud To a greater good and a purer truth, From chaos to order, isolation to unity, From barrenness to flowering richness. So, come women, come men and children, And sing your joy to the hilltops, Let the wind carry your song, For long after the footprints of our dance Are covered by these drifting sands Our shouts to the Lord will still echo in the valleys and the mountains and our hearts. Praise to our God, God of our mothers and our fathers, Who has brought us forth from slavery to freedom, And clothed our naked despair With railments of hope, promise, and new song. by Miriam Lippel Blum Copyright. All rights reserved. | |||||||||
