I Will Be Your Death Certificate

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Ephraim, my dear son,

I put you on my lap.

I delighted to hear your sweet voice.

I listened with joy to your every word.

When you spoke to me your brothers trembled.

You were a Tzaddik among your brothers,

but like Solomon you brought a shadowy light to the nations,

and therefore you died.

Shall I bail you out of the grave?

Shall I break you out of prison, 

when the prison you’re in is death?  No.

I will be your death certificate!

I will be the grave in which hell itself is buried far from you.

God planted an old growth garden

in which every tree was its neighbour’s friend.

But at the center of the garden

was a tree that was no other tree’s friend.

Do not eat of the fruit of the arrogant tree.

But you took the hand of the king of the north,

and your heart also was charmed by the king’s daughter from the south.

On the day you ate of that fruit,

in dying you became unclean.

How can I raise my son from the dead

if his bones are unclean?

I myself will be your death certificate!

I myself will be the grave in which hell is buried far from you.