Three Daughters  by Sharon Baller (April 13, 2022)

 

Of four sons does the torah speak

One wise one wicked one simple one young



 

This is not that story

This is a psalm of sisters

A song for daughters

And there are three 

two are wicked and wise

None are simple

None are young

The silent one of blinded  eyes

Sees past shadows and deceit

She tongues words that do not translate

She will never move toward you 

Never beckon you close

To her you say “I have no answers”


 

The wiser one who devours books 

like bread and honey 

Who  turned her water into wine

And drank and drank til she was blind

And her husband deaf

They scattered their children like eggshells 

This wiser one took the answers we gave 

And sold them to the wind

The youngest one 

not silent or wise 

Ambles forth with opened eyes 

upon a world of twisted words and bitter herbs

She talks in rhyme and won’t shut up

To her we say “walrus. orange,  purple wolf  Ethel ethel ethel

Until she stops ovulating

This is a psalm of sisters

A song for daughters

And there are three 

all phosphorescent filigree, 

silver skinned and moonflowered

On  this night 

We ask them to weep salt water

So we can dip parsley in their tears

On this night

They will chop galas and delicious reds

Spice them cinnamon, honey and wine

They will stir smaltz and boil water

Without asking questions

They will walk  barefoot 

In meditation

along the sodden canal

when achieving their exodus

They will recline on couplets


 

This is their psalm 

Sung with clay toungues

Dislodged from the river bank

 with forecypts of angel bone

 


haggadah Section: -- Four Children
Source: poem by Sharon Baller