Elijah prays, "LORD my God, have you brought tragedy even on this widow I am staying with, by causing her son to die?"

~a poem~

They call me Troubler,
Drought-Throat, Brook-bent
Wanderer—  I am

Sidon’s choirmaster, where (Yahweh—
why?) no one sings. We thirst

while questions like vinegar
fill our mouths— I wait
	
with David’s How long songs
winding a way along

my dreams, into the rhythm
of my step, my staff  (how long?)— 

Her home (what has been 
mine) sits silent at the table
of this tragedy— prepared 
by you? Her cup

overflows

though the valley
of the widow’s mouth 

is gullied out, edge-cracked,
sunken. On the bed

her only son lies dead. And you?

Your silence, Yahweh,
eats away at tender
flesh— if I lay down

this question, please
pick it up. Play the harp again 
for us, for her. I hear a call 

(you? LORD my God?)
to the upper room. The wailing
has begun. If I, under this

mantle, stretch out
myself across the boy—

if I lie down
into his death, tell me

who will rise again?

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*Shout out to my poetry workshop friends who helped make the punctuation and line breaks better in this poem ~ Culture, Uncurled,

Rebecca Faulks

, and

Heather Kaufmann

.

*If you’re just joining us on this poetic journey through the questions asked to/from/about Elijah and Elisha in 1 and 2 Kings, welcome. This is my first go at Elijah’s voice in this series, and I’ve been intimidated to make a start. Here, I’m responding to 1 Kings 17:20, riffing off of his prayer, and imagining it continuing in these lines. In all the stories about him, Elijah seems to me mysterious, authoritative, full of questions, and obedient. I hope I conveyed something of that here.

*I’ve been wondering how much access Elijah had to David’s psalms. They were meant to be sung, and some by the whole congregation, and without a doubt widely memorized, so I think it’s reasonable to assume Elijah had some in his heart. It’s not only reasonable, it’s beautiful.

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Y’all, this poem made me sweat. I have been working on it for the last two weeks, largely on my back patio, with my pal Vesper at my side. Some of you have already been introduced to Vesper by this poem over at the Rabbit Room.

*I’ve signed off on everything in the final phase of my book. I’m so hopeful I’ll have copies for sale at my Subscriber party, Oct 2nd! Here’s a peak at its beauty:

~~~

“God and the prophets could have spoken otherwise, but they chose, quite often, to speak in verse.” -

Abram Van Engen

in Word Made Fresh