JOSEPH IN EGYPT

by Alfred D. Byrd

	His home in Canaan, gift of God Most High

To his father Jacob's line, lies far behind

As Joseph looks with terror-stricken eyes

Upon a crowded square in which are bought 

And sold the lives of cattle and of men,

And sees his own life put upon the block.

How mocking seems the name of "God-will-add"

His mother, Rachel, gave to him, "For God,"

She said, "Will add another son through me

To multiply my husband's heritage;

And with my sons I'll make my place secure."

But Rachel is no more, her second son,

The son of sorrow, having proved her death;

And now her husband's count of sons will fall,

For who would count as son one sold as slave?

For even now a lord of this black land

Weighs out a pile of silver as his price,

And, seeing this, the second silver pledge

Exchanged for him, the boy looks back in thought

Upon the first, the weight his brothers' hands

Had taken from the traders -- distant kin,

Children of Ishmael from Midian --

Who took their purchased slave to Egypt's marts.

	How mocking seem the dreams that he once dreamed!

In one, he saw the sun, his father's sign,

The moon, which pictured Leah, Jacob's wife,

And, last, his brothers in eleven stars,

And all bowed down in homage to their chief,

To him who wore the rainbow as his coat --

And then he told his family this dream.

Then Jacob laughed.  "My son, will you indeed

Rule over us?  Take care!  Your brothers' hearts

Must still recall the first of your strange dreams,

In which the sheaves of wheat your brothers reaped

Knelt down before your own.  This raised their ire,

As did the bad report you once brought back

Of how the sons the handmaids bore to me

So poorly kept my flocks compared to you.

And I perhaps have fed their jealousy

By giving you your many-colored coat,

A sign of greater love than I've shown them.

So tell them no more dreams, bear no more tales,

For they will not bow down to you, I fear,

Before they give your dreams a bitter test."

	Few days would pass before his words came true.

One morning Jacob sent young Joseph forth,

His many-colored coat upon his back,

From where he dwelt in Hebron, north

To Shechem, where, he thought, his other sons

Tended his flocks.  "See how your brothers fare,"

He said, "and hasten back with your report."

	At Shechem, though, there was no trace of them,

And Joseph wandered long among the fields

Until a stranger, kindness in his gaze,

Happened to cross his path and say to him,

"It seems, my son, you're lost.  Whom do you seek?"

	"My brothers, sir, the sons of Israel,

Who pastured here their flocks, but now are gone."

	The stranger smiled.  "They left here not long since

To find a better grazing ground in Dothan.

Go seek them there; my blessing's on your path."

	Thanking the man, Joseph set off again

And found his brothers where the man had said.

He called to them, "I bring our father's greetings --"

	At once they set upon him, stripped the robe,

His father's gift, from Joseph's trembling form,

And cast him down into a nearby pit.

His trust betrayed, he called out pleas and threats:

"If I'm set free, our father will forgive --

But he'll avenge my blood if I am killed!"

	One brother laughed and said, "Tell us more dreams!

Or tell us how you'll come up from that pit!

Without our help, you'll find that hard to do."

	They then sat down to eat their midday meal,

And Joseph stilled his voice.  Surely, he thought,

My brothers have their fill of jest by now.

	His brother Judah killed this hope in him.

"I see a caravan," the man called out,

"Approaching from the north, from Gilead.

Why spill the blood of one of our own flesh

And cover it with earth to hide our guilt?

These traders, bound for Egypt, by their path,

Should pay us well to take him off our hands,

And we'll attain our goal without his blood

To stain our hearts with sin in heaven's sight."

	His brothers talked, agreed upon this plan,

And hailed the passing traders to their fire.

Soon Joseph was displayed before their gaze

And heard with bitterness his finer points

Discussed as if he were, not man, but beast.

"What price for him?" one trader asked at length.

	Judah then smiled and spread his hands.  "We trust

Your honesty to judge the young man's worth,

And we'll accept your offer, if it's fair."

	The son of Ishmael smiled back and said,

"Your words are courteous, and we will give

As much as we can spare.  For we must pay

From our own funds his body's maintenance

And Pharaoh's tolls and fees of marketing.

Do twenty silver pieces seem enough?"

	The deal was clinched, rough hands then seized the boy,

And he was dragged away while silver clinked

Into his brothers' hands.  In fear and grief,

"Stop this!" he cried.  "Your joke has gone too far!

How can God bless a brother's treachery?

What will our father say?"  No answer came.

He cried, "Why won't you look me in the eyes?"

Their heads hung low; it seemed their ill-gained wealth

Absorbed their thoughts, as it did Joseph's, too,

While he rode southwards on a camel's back

As goods his buyers hoped would bring them gain

In Pharaoh's marketplace beside the Nile:

Here silver purchases his life once more.

	The traders' chieftain turns and grins at him.

"Well, lad, we've made a profit on this trip,

And we've got you to thank.  If you do well

By your new master, life won't be so hard.

His name is Potiphar, a councilor

In Pharaoh's court; he's bought you for his house.

Don't run away or cheat him, if you're wise.

He doesn't speak our tongue, so you'll learn his

And come to bless your luck.  That's my advice!"

The trader grins once more, then turns away

To yield him up to his new master's hands.

	And now this son of Mizraim, his lord,

Spare as a stork beneath his linen robes,

Regards his slave with eagles' eyes of jet

Above a hawk-like nose, and speaks to him

In clicking tones a bird of prey might use.

He frowns at Joseph's silent stare, then points

To two attendants, guards by their attire,

And gestures for the boy to follow them.

And now, through dusty, sun-drenched streets, the youth,

Bewildered by this strange, new city's din,

Walks in his master's train, and calls to mind

An ancestor who came there long ago.

"O God of blessed Abraham," he prays,

"You once protected him from Pharaoh's power

When, fleeing famine in Your Promised Land,

He settled in this place and told his wife

To say she was his sister, not his spouse,

Lest Pharaoh slay him.  Pharaoh paid instead

A mighty brideprice out for Sarai's hand.

And then, O God Almighty, righteous Judge,

You punished Pharaoh and his land to keep

The bride of Abram from a stranger's bed.

You shielded Abraham from harm and shame,

And sent him forth from here with greater wealth

And honor than he'd had when he arrived;

And now -- You have, I know, the power to do

The same for me -- I call on you to shield me

As long as I'm a slave within this land.

Redeem my life from servitude, restore

The promise of the dreams you sent to me!

O God, heed the distress of Joseph's cry!"

	He follows on with dawning confidence:

The prayer has stilled the anguish of his heart,

For he has faith to bear his testing's start.