Image, Idol, Dream Abraham prepared a table before me Even as I spoke harshly of the desert’s hot kisses. He moistened my head with oil. “You are safe,” he said. “My people will fight for you.” If I was a fugitive, I was no longer a stranger in his tent. He filled my cup to the brim As if I was a visiting king. I said: “I have found satisfaction in God. I need nothing else.” We sat and ate. He talked of Abel and Seth, Of the riddles of Shem and his book of secrets, Of his own

Lamech’s Revelation Lord, I have seen the inner workings of man and I am afraid. Poor and pathetic: he is corrupted from the start, living in a blasted world. But my eyes have seen the ark of salvation, which you have prepared in secret: my own son Noah, the justification of all that is to come. He knows the secrets of all living things. He was born in the night but came out perfect. He is my Adam on whom God will pour out His righteousness. The same God who will one day wipe

Promise to Abraham Abraham, it is time to leave your lonely tent. Find a vacant spot in the belly of your heart and learn to fear the Lord. Stop seeking the wind that blows this way and that; come out from behind that fig tree and walk straight. Do not hide your thoughts from me or turn your hand to smooth things. Abraham, you are a dry land without green shoots. But I am making you a gift of wild grasses and flowers, of flowing rivers and fertile soil. It will be for you an

Exodus 20:21 ‘Moses approached the thick darkness where God was’ — (Exodus 20:21) God is a chasm deep & wide at the Heart of light, thick cloud Enveloping Moses — Cloud the color of ink on a scroll Of Torah. God’s best miracle? To disappear right in the middle Of things (when you need him most) & when you look up there’s Just a great nothing (Except a trail of smoke). But seek & you may find him — Way out on the sea’s brink Where the ice caps melt;

Zechariah The brickwork is broken, Gardens are in disarray, The iron gates swing free from their hinges, Rain sings in the gutters & the earth beneath my feet is possessed by evil spirits. How the giants have fallen! How the angels have vanished! Gone are the generations that once stood their ground (Bright were their faces; Noisy was their talk with childish laughter). War, plague, flood and drought have left their marks On the foreheads o

Letter to Iyov Before I had to chance to complete my creation I was cast down by the rebel angels and made to suffer this, my exile. Creation evolved and I was able to converse with man in the ear of his mind. It was I who hid in the fiery tree and called out to the shepherd. I spoke to my people in thunder. There we were, in shadows, in the fog of misunderstanding. I was there when my people fought