How I long to wrap you Leah in a tender embrace to hold all the anguish of your words this never-ending effort birthing nations from a fruitful unloved womb as if by action as if by effort as if by emptying yourself a thousand times you might be loved
the older sister languishing under her sister’s splendid tree
did you weep beneath the veil anticipating all the pain of being a disappointment cast aside in shock un-embraced on your only wedding night
you are a hundred thousand women over Leah who have tried to be someone else for someone else who have uttered those damaged words ‘surely now my husband will love me’ unaware you can be perfection and still rejected – it’s not you, it’s them.
I’d like to hold your hand Leah and tell you of a legacy of a man – Holy and Human who was prepared to carry your naked humiliation to a public execution a man who came from the line of Leah a lion like your Judah who shared your DNA
and loved you how he loves you – ancient mother, grandmother empty womb or a thousand sons
you were seen and loved Leah not by Jacob but by El Roi who carried your neglected name into his family tree.