Elijah

If I had been named Elijah

I would wear a skinned raccoon 

I would be a coward and a champion

Ashamed and prideful 

Fed by the ravens, watered by the brook 

I would be a man, barely 

Sand swallowing my ankles 

Till I was one centimeter tall 

Just a hair sprouting from the desert floor 

And I would be Elijah 

Baker of bread, bathed in oil 

Slaughterer, shy murderer

Obedient, wavering, faithless

Until, I was quiet 

And then I Elijah 

Would beg for death, be restored 

And beat at my wandering eyes 

Until the fire came to me 

From the sky, white, and bitter

And gave to me my name 

Elijah.