on a bridge, two men wrestle each other.
They are friends, brothers, maybe lovers
You can't tell the nature of the game,
Whether they wrestle out of love or anger.
They collapse, shouting out each other's name.
Let me give you the vision differently:
Your name is Jacob, and you leave your family
on the far side of the river. You taste blood.
You are wrestling a man you can't see
And when you ask his name, he tells you yours,
Calls you Israel, He struggles with God.
His voice is like a wind, and you wonder
What are you going to tell your mother?
Your opponent is gone. The river floods.