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fortified city.

      My citizens peaceful but watchful inside.

      38One night, the trees pull up their roots

      and gather from the surrounding hills as an army.

      They batter me down with clubs.

      39I scratch forty days ~ wrote Anatiya ~ into the wall of the cave. There will be no end to this solitude. 40I eat berries and mushrooms and drink grassy tea. I think of Hannah’s lips, moving while no voice is heard. 41Eli assumed she was drunk and exiled her from the holy place. 42But I know that Hannah could herself hear her voice. I talk to myself here in this cave, and my voice resonates off the walls and rings in my ears.

      43The stories I tell in this cave are a violin song.

      There is a wind chime in this cave; it is my laugh.

      44My song is a chorus of birds.

      My faintest sigh is the coo of a dove.

      45But to Eli, I am mute.

      To Jeremiah, I was never born.

      They have ears but cannot hear!

      ~wrote Anatiya.

      46And You?

      You Who set the sand as a boundary to the sea?

      47You by Whose wisdom the hawk

      spreads his wings to the south?

      48You Who know the hosts of Heaven

      and call every star by name?

      Do you hear me?

      49Forgive me, Lord Most High!

      Forgive my headstrong challenge!

      50I know, now, the truth about Cain and Abel.

      Don’t You see?

      51I love Jeremiah the way Cain loved You!

      52Cain loved You and Abel kept seducing You

      with gifts and plenty, and I

      do love Jeremiah, and You keep seducing him

      with exquisite words and daring missions,

      53while all I have is this unruly vineyard

      teeming with weeds and little foxes.

      54O God! Do you have to be so beautiful?

      55You Who bring the early and late rain in season,

      56You Who paint bows of color across the mist

      and beget the dewdrops,

      57forgive my ugliness, my anger.

      I am so tiresome and troublesome.

      58Do not judge me, for I am an orphan.

      59God knows that my deeds have been good,

      but do not punish me on account of my wicked thoughts

      ~wrote Anatiya.

      60It is an appalling and horrible thing

      to be an ancient scroll,

      filled with stories and secrets,

      prophesies and truths,

      61a tapestry of words sewn together

      with golden thread,

      hidden in an earthen jar sealed tightly,

      and buried deep in a cave, in a sheath of rock,

      where no one can find you, or touch you, or know you.

      6

      From the lip of my dwelling-place

      I can see Jerusalem, white as snow,

      gold light gleaming as a crown

      on its rooftops,

      curling and spilling into the streets,

      2and at night, the moon

      casts a spidery web over the city,

      silver and deep blue,

      in which lovers and falling stars

      become entangled.

      3Around the walls I can see men pitching tents.

      They have weapons in their stocks

      and they bide their time.

      4As the day declines

      and the shadows of evening grow long,

      they gather around fires and make plans.

      5Jerusalem knows what is coming,

      and she waits there royally

      and mightily.

      6Nowhere are the shadows of evening more alluring.

      Her stones are strangely tranquil.

      7Long ago, when the followers of Korach offered offerings to the Lord

      upon fire pans, the Lord’s fire consumed them whole.

      8And yet, even in the midst of the charred corpses and wailing,

      the fire pans became holy.

      9This is the secret the stones of Jerusalem know:

      When the fortress is destroyed

      and wickedness purged,

      after the burning and the bloodlust,

      even in the midst of the charred remains, 10the stones

      will be holy

      and eternal.

      11Thus says Anatiya:

      Here I am hidden

      in the cleft of the rock.

      12O God, let Your goodness pass before me!

      Let Your hand shield me from Your radiance,

      let me gaze safely from behind

      tendrils of vines!

      13I have run like a gazelle

      swiftly away from my love.

      14I was afraid of being consumed like firewood

      in this furnace of desire.

      15It heats my chest and dries my throat.

      It leaps and licks at my belly

      in tiny tightened fists.

      I cannot hold it in.

      16I was afraid it would pour out,

      hot as the mouth of the Leviathan,

      that eruptive, boiling cauldron.

      17Better I surrender to the cool and dank

      than show my need, this monstrous thing.

      18My sneezes flash lightning,

      firebrands stream from my mouth,

      and my breath ignites coals,

      eyes glimmering red as dawn

      ~wrote Anatiya.

      19I have acted shamefully

      with nothing but greed in my heart.

      20I wanted to eclipse You, God,

      with my little pursed lips,

      and a shrug of narrow shoulder.

      21But is there not room enough in man

      for the love of Heaven and the

      affections of a mortal woman?

      Or is the heart to small to bear it?

      22O

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