She considers that the one who has promised is faithful
and, knowing herself to have been born into exile,
follows a flame through the wilderness
in search of a homeland she does not know.
She considers that the one who has promised is faithful
and, finding herself in possession of a vow that even death cannot break,
lingers in valleys and green canyons
on a path of living footprints through the desert.
She considers that the one who has promised is faithful
and, letting herself see with eyes unadjusted to the light,
wanders past trails and stars and roadsigns
against the gentle beckoning of her birthright.
She considers that the one who has promised is faithful
and, filling herself with the ages-old tears of fellow travelers,
stumbles through mist and glass and darkness
toward a hope unseen and out of earthly reach.
She considers that the one who has promised is faithful
and, giving herself to the ground and the call of a voice beyond death,
impels hand- and tear- and blood-washed feet to run over dust and stream
until
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