The Ark

The Ark - we heard it was
in Ephratha; we found it
in the fields of Jearim

and we are overjoyed.  We
toiled all that day
and the next

for days on end, lifting
stones and digging
ditches - the field was

rank with thistles and
hard weeds - we had to
buy the land to do it

and it cost us dear.  
We hunted and hunted
until our hands were

bled and our hearts
weary of torn fingers and
no nails.  All our

tools broke.  But on a
dark morning, as the sun
climbed yonder hill and

chased the clouds away
and burned our heads
one of our spades

hit the wood, and -
Aie! Aie! Aie! - the man
began dancing, his dusty

skirts flapping at his
ankles.  And there it
was the redwood and

gold casket, its wings
gleamed dully out of the
hole beneath our feet.

At last.  Beyond all our 
dreams we found it 
in the fields of Jearim.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem