In Memory of Meir Ribalow

You were the midwife at the long gestation

   Of work that itched like sand till it was pearled.
You gladly gave the breast to each creation
   And proudly sent them off into the world—
Not just with your unique seal of approval
   But something like the writer’s kiss of peace:
What you took on yourself was the removal
   Of all that blocked a perfect birth’s release.
God grant I learn all that you knew so well;
   God help me keep you in my memory
To be my Virgil in this barren hell—
   To guide, inspire, and leave the path to me—
      Your standard of good work my daily goal;
      And to that end, God never rest your soul.
 

for Meir Ribalow

Copyright 2013 Matthew J Wells