Is there no balm in Gilead; is there no physician there? why then is not the health of the daughter of my people recovered?
Shh. Did you hear that? Whispers across the desert.
Out in the windswept the valley, we huddle close. It gets cold in the desert. When that happens, we feel icy chill. The cold nose. The red fever. So much of it. We feel an icy chill. No doubt. No doubt.
In the night, our fingers wrapped around stone. We shake. We shake. We redouble our efforts. Doubled over in pain.
The fire is a blessing of course. The elders gather round. The people gather round to hear the elders.
Our tribe worshiped the knife. Just as we worshiped the fire the rock the wood.
There was no question that what we were doing was right. Was good. We were God’s own chosen outlaws. The Devil would come to shame.