touching Sinai meant death, while
smoke and voice meant the divine,
nearly seeing and hearing their maker.
The smoke and voice they survived,
but fear took hold
and they begged for a buffer,
a prophet to pass into the smoke
and brave the blare and fire
to be chosen
to relay the words.

they the people of Europe and abroad
had set buffers to their buffers
and had pushed God and His guidance
into eclipse or exile or extinction
(God honoring the wishes of people!)
till Nietzsche declared God dead—
yet wrestled Him day and night.

we the people smitten
redoubled our effort to worship
our buffered and buffeted God.

I am watching and I see,
shown in advance to me,
as a steward, not a prophet—
reading holy writ to see
over a second paper
pinned to my fridge
that Yahweh has cracked the dawn
and will come out of the night
with a miracle seen
by man, woman, and child,
by righteous and wicked
and all in between,
vaster than Sinai,
claiming sovereignty over
not just a mountain
but the sun and the moon
and the god of nuclear war.