the rain to be your friend,
trembling the leaves of your tomato plants.
I want its rhythm to fill your songs.
Thirsty, may you swallow all you want.
On hot, cloudless days, may you splash out
and swim in the cool, dark deep.
But more than that, I want you be like Esau,
who, when offered flocks of goats and sheep
by the brother who had cheated him,
was able to refuse Jacob’s gift.
Though he lived far from the dew of Heaven,
though it was so dry his tongue stuck to his teeth,
he could embrace his twin. He could say,
“I have enough.”