I listen to the echo of the Prophet. Her voice was once a powerful kindness to the passion of the Jews. She understood their success and their failure. I speak out my joy received and my praise; when others listen, I commend them. Thus my solemn certainty of the past and the future: doves were sacrificed on the altar for my child once— Birds, swimming across the blue— that the righteousness of my son could not be traded for jewels.