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Holy (04/08/23 - 21:58)
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Issac looked up at his father from where he lay, bare
oil rubbed into his olive skin.
They had walked the path at sunrise, together. Abraham wore each step with pain as he climbed, hands folded about the white linen parcel that he bore and the dawn chorus seemed to him a lament
The boy had not understood
but followed all the same, his footsteps falling in unison.
Now filled with joy tears blessed Abraham's cheeks in rivers that would never cleanse him as he cried his thanks to the heavens above
Issac rose from that stone slab and ran retracing his steps past
the goats and the olive trees and the scree and scrub and passed his home and past everything he knew and into the lands beyond
He ran until his feet bled and lights danced before his eyes
stumbled
fell
and as he lay in the heathen dust he thanked only himself for the distance laid between his bones and our father
and he wondered if the knifes command had been for Abraham, would they still have made that dawn ascent?
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Passed Midnight
Hi guys, it’s 1:08 am