Poems by Rabbi Arthur Waskow, 11/22/2004

I

Bony Abraham,
vibrating bone on bone
to wails and screams all night from Isaac's tent,
heard echo finally
inside his skull
the call: "Just kill the kid,

Thank God!"

Never slept that night —
Ran morning quick
to gather
knife, rope, wood,
spark-flint,
gag.

Bent fumbling with the rope
to bind his son,
sweating over knots,
he never heard
a sonorous angelic
". . .Abraham . . ."

The knife began to plunge, and
Only when his skull exploding
shrieked again,
loud as loud three nights before,
"ABRAHAM!"

Did he lift up his eyes.

The ram seemed pretty simple-minded
as a substitute. But
the kid stopped screaming.
And never did talk back again.

II

The Voice came, unmistakable: "Kill Isaac."

So Abraham tested God.

Thought: [No point in arguing again.
We just went through that dance about Sodom.
I taught You justice,
what it is
and isn't.]

[All right, I'm ready.
My hand will force Your hand.
Are You a murderer or not?]

Said: "Here I am."

III

"Abraham! You toss Me prayers
like chocolate kisses
But when I chew them over,
sweet melting,
there's no nourishment.
You praise Me as the Breast that Nourishes,
The Weaver who webs the universe,
But you won't believe that
I'm a killer.

"How could I weave this tallis of the morning
Without dark threads of death?
The water that moves through me into breast-milk
comes bitter to My mouth
from bloody tears.

"You say you are My friend?
Then spare Me all that sweetness
And try a little truth.
Kill
Isaac."