a poem...

Untitled

I want to meet my father Avraham the wandering Aramean,

ask him if he had ever heard the Voice before that day,

ever seen that Angel like a flaming pillar with the Name inside

him as an onyx stone might be set in a piece of marble.

How to recognize the Voice of the One who happens

along if not by those imperious commands - 

quit father’s house kindred homeland quit all that’s dear,

go, go now, go to the Land, don’t bother with where

you will go, I will show you the Land you will know it when you see it.

Just go; always go; forever go. There will be rest at the end.

O my father Avraham tell me at length of the terror
that still tosses nations about like motes in an April windstorm.