CHAYYE SARAH 

The knife that on Moriah spared the son
Yet found a place where it could take its toll:
Too bound in motherhood was Sarah’s soul
To cut that tie, and live. They found her gone
When they returned. The wondrous cloud that shaded
Her tent door always wide to those in need,
The blessing on each loaf her hands had kneaded,
Her Sabbath light that shone throughout the week,
Had vanished with her. Yet perhaps her prayer
Surrounded Eliezer as he stood
Waiting till Rivka came, the one who’d dare
To leave her kin, set forth upon that road
As Isaac’s promised and predestined wife.
She then relit the flame of Sarah’s life.