The Moabite Speaks

By Emma Paulus '26

I did not choose this road. Something divine knew where

It was leading. My feet simply followed you,

Naomi, as a river follows stones. Should I go

Back? I will not. I cannot. Something in me, Something I

Cannot name, Someone, would not lose me. Call it Will,

Call it God, I felt His sovereign hand. I would go

Through the specter of famine, through foreign fields, and 

Glean after the weight of barley; my knees knowing where

To bend before I did. What promise was to come. Even you

Did not know of the blessing you bore; that to stay

Beside you was to step into a story. To walk without seeing. For I

Was only faithful; God made it holy; therefore, I stay.