Poem: THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC

God told Abraham --Kill your son for me --& they
climbed Mount Moriah so there would be a great
distance of rock cloud shadow & light to be sliced in
two --& the perplexing covenant might come to
-----mind as
you stare toward the blue horizon

The knife seems to fall forever
as Abraham (looking like an old man Rembrandt
frequently sketched) palms the bound youth’s face
with a large determined hand to shield him from the
sight

The knife seems to fall forever
giving you time to think of bloody Passover --of
-----Jesus
as sacrificial lamb --of what kind of god would ask
-----so
much --& what kind of father could do it (as a
windblown angel seizes the old man’s wrist)


Then you notice the eyes --bloodshot & observant
of a ram caught in a thicket --This is no happy
-----ending
Three centuries after Rembrandt
the knife still falls

(This poem first appeared in Christianity & Literature. Unlike my previous posts, this is not from my chapbook)