Abraham wrapped his robe about him,
Laced his sandals upon his feet,
Took his staff in his hand,
And started off down the path
To the place of which God had told him.
A young man rises early one cool morning
Washes himself and says the prayers,
Stuffs bricks of plastique inside his down vest,
Takes the detonator in his hand,
And walks off toward the border checkpoint.
Isaac said to his father Abraham,
“I see the wood and the fire,
But where is the lamb for our sacrifice?”
A pretty young girl with a smiling face
Her spirit fierce as the desert sun
Puts on a girdle of dynamite sticks
Wraps colored wires about her
Like an embroidered shawl
And stands waiting for a crowded bus.
And Abraham stretched forth his hand
And took the knife to slay his son
An aged man goes every day to the local mosque
To teach the children how bombs are made.
How a timer is set, how a charge is wired.
How a grenade is launched, how a machine gun fired.
Who to hate and who to kill,
And why “the cause” is worth the dying.
But the angel of God called out to Abraham,
And Abraham responded, “Here am I”.
“Do not lay your hand on Isaac, your son,
For I can see that your faith is strong.
I will make of you a great nation.
Through you all the world shall be blessed.”
God calls us too, from beyond the centuries.
Do not kill your children to prove your faith in Me.
Do not take away the lives I have given you.
Use your time on Earth for nurturing,
Creating, and growing.
Hearken to My voice!
Copyright © Robert Grappel | Year Posted 2016
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment