Elijah asks the widow, "Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?"—Anna A. Friedrich
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Stack Takeover: We’ve invited Anna A. Friedrich to take over our Substack for two weeks to share her latest poems that examine the lives of the prophets Elijah and Elisha through a poetic lens. Read more on her Substack, Monafolkspeak and in her new book Under the Terebinth.
A note from Anna on her series of prophet poems
It started with Elijah asking his protege, Elisha, “What have I done to you?” For years, I’ve found this question surprising and even strange. So this summer, I tried my hand at writing an imaginative poem from Elisha’s perspective, somewhat in response to the question. It was so delightful to put myself in the story enough to write that poem that I began to imagine a whole series around these two prophets in 1 and 2 Kings. I started circling every question mark I found, noticing dozens of compelling, generative questions!
And since poets love to slough off “the weight of too much liberty,” I decided to go back to the beginning (1 Kings 17) and attempt to write a poem that engages every single question in these stories. My parameters? The question has to be either from, to, or about Elijah or Elisha. To my count, there are 30-35, depending on how I might group them. So far, I’ve written 17. I’m grateful to the Rabbit Room for sharing a sampling of this series with you all. I pray you “find brief solace there, as I have found.”
On to the first poem.
Solomon’s sons or Zimri’s deceit mean nothing to us in Zarephath. We’ve turned our eyes skyward (Baal keeps silent)—clouds refuse to gather, to come down. Man of God, I scavenge for sticks, afraid to weep, as heaven proves dry (no fist of a cloud in sight). In the night, Man of God, I heard of one raven-fed and full of truth—(it’s you) whose god has shut up heaven, whose heavens, indifferent to a mother’s plea for rain to fall, to flood our fields—do you see the red, caked earth? The cracks widen, I cannot make even one small loaf for you (or I must steal from my own son). Man of God, Tishbite, though the well is deep I will go draw water, but please I need to know— who is this god of earth and heaven whose man needs me to give him a drink?
Anna A. Friedrich is a poet and arts pastor in Boston, MA. She shares an original poem every Wednesday morning at annaafriedrich.substack.com, and her first full-length poetry collection, Under the Terebinth, is now available (from Wipf and Stock).
Thank you for bringing all of us to the well: specific inclusion of the Samaritan woman and implied inclusion of Hagar. We are drawn to those who come to draw.
I would like a copy of your book, and one for a poet friend.
This series of poems on the questions about Elijah and Elisha have been great companions to me during a long season of grief and its cohort. They evoke the rage-praying, the exhaustion, the helplessness, and the hope of my last few years and I’m so grateful that this art exists.