Isaac
Father!— Yes, my son.—
Here are the wood and fire
for the sacrifice,
but where is the sheep?—
God will provide, my son.—
Father, you say this is the place,
but still no sheep.— None
but the most to be held in awe,
my son. Word of Yahweh,
I must bind your limbs
and you? You must be put
upon the altar.— Yes, my father,
though I know not why.—
The day will come, my son,
for that.
Father!— Yes, my son.—
You stopped.— Word of Yahweh,
my name assured, the sheep provided.
Let us return, my son,
our work is done.— I whirl, my father,
in thoughts of present
and past and hopes and fears
to come that sing of God
and promise and sacrifice
of blood by word of Yahweh
for a thousand reasons
or for only one. I need
time to wander in return,
my father.— Gladly, my son.
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