Covering Ruth

me and Jeff

This poem is dedicated to my husband, my Boaz, and my best friend. Thank you Chief for making every minute of this crazy life count.

 

Ruth speaks:

Won’t you cover me?

Boaz cover your רות with your skirts.

Even if it hurts.

Heavenly blue.

613 blossoms that bloom.

Won’t your Ruth cover you?

As your etzer Kenegdo.

 

Can you spread your garment over me?

And clothe me in dignity?

Wrap me in your strength,

And guard me from the enemy.

Oh, won’t you cover your Ruth?

 

Won’t you take me as your bride?

I can’t continue to creep away in the night,

From your threshing floor

Where all your goods are stored…

Won’t you open the door, for your Ruth?

 

Boaz speaks:

No servant is to touch my Ruth.

No onlooker shall give her a rebuke.

Yes, I will cover you.

I will give you water to drink

And you shall glean even among the sheaves,

And no man will insult you,

And I will have my servants drop grain

Handfuls left behind for you to take,

Yes, on purpose!

 

I will go before the city gate and in front of every man state,

Here she is, my Ruth.

Come ten men,

Come Elders, come all.

Do you still have a rebuke?

As you take off your shoe,

Handing me what you refuse.

 

You are witnesses today that I have purchased Ruth to me my bride

And to raise up her seed

And to be a covering indeed!

Now we must become unified, as I leave and cleave.

Oh, Ruth, I’ll never back down!

I’ll never not stand!

For we are One.

And Obed will be our child

His name means servant, as he will be

Until through our lineage comes a great, great King

Yeshua HaMasiach

All Glory and Honor

Every knee must bow

And we, dear Ruth, will toss to Him our crowns

 

Ruth:

I love you My Boaz

You are my best friend

We are one now, and we’ll be one to the end

A picture of tragedy

But we’ve conquered now and won

The next generation will have records of our swords

And they will stand tall, mighty and strong

Dressed in tallit’s blowing shofars undone

May the army rise up

All across our land and May the next generation

Have a sword in their hands

 

I love you my Boaz.

I thank you as well,

For proclaiming to the world,

For protecting me in your fields

Yes, I am your bride

And my heart cannot take this love that I feel

For it’s ready to burst

It’s ready to sing

It’s ready to shout

For the new coming King

 

Boaz:

I love you my Ruth

You’ll bow lowly before kings

You’re a friend to the hurting

And a friend to those in need

I was given a rare gift

When the Father prepared you

We are one in the spirit

We are one with His truths.

 

“So Boaz took Ruth, and she was his isha; and when he went in unto her, Hashem gave her conception, and she bore ben [T.N. see Isa 7:14]. And the nashim said unto Naomi, Baruch Hashem, which hath not left thee this yom without a Go’el. May shmo be famous in Yisroel. And may he restore your nefesh and be a nourisher of thine old age; for thy kallah, which loveth thee, which is better to thee than shiva banim, hath born him.” Ruth 4:13-15 OJB.

Photo: My Boaz, Jeffery Manning

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