Genesis 22

Abraham, not play acting
but set on stage; flooded
in lighting and set in motion;
scripted and cued for us

for us to see beyond
the temple scrim to make
murky action bold, obvious and unavoidable

we, consumed in the scene
watch the mountain ascent
study closely, the boy's eyes
searching his father's face for understanding;
for direction, occupation

the fire and wood are here, but where
is the lamb?

oh sweet grief; oh sweet agreement
staged in bright faith
shining like the altar fire
glinting on a sharpened blade

in agreement, the aged binds the willing youth
and raises up the scepter death

but hold and wait and see
the glory of god revealed in Golgotha,
marked by a ram in a thicket
and the God who swears by none
greater than Himself

Portrait of a Man I've Only Read About

The common hours of the day
I see your Presence rise like starlight
in my child's eyes filled with laughter

In the mean moments of early morning
when discipline becomes the voice of mockery
I feel your Presence wrap my mind
in long-suffering, joyfilled approval
your smile resting with your Word on my forehead

In the Sunday morning hour
when everyone sits still, finally
I sing songs and hear stories of your Presence
the Presence who later today
will silence the Accuser

the Presence who will secure my home
as I open it to strangers
who will restore to me all I spend on those who cannot repay

who will strengthen my ill back
to bear up under my own burdens
and others' too; to love without agenda
or restraint