The Divine voice spoke,

And Abraham listened

With enfleshed ears. 


The Voice spoke of futures incomprehensible, 

And current moments insufferable. 


“Your Daddy loves you”

The throaty, choking whisper escapes a grief-stricken heart. 

“Not so tight, Daddy”

The boyish whimper twisting free of the cords 

Of religious ensnarement. 

And Abraham’s fist closed, 

Grasping the scalpel with which to sever filial naivety 

From the inescapable inrushing flood of terrifying adulthood.

The mountain’s sandy grit between teeth,

The harsh whip of the scything wind brings a tear to the eye.

He raises his eyes in faith;

He widens his eyes in terror.

Both see the ram.


How dreadful that silence on the return home.

The aching void between Father, father and son.


– Steve.

February 2021