Kneeling in the dew-laid grass alone
Gloomy, moonless heavens show not grace
To the man in anguish dripping sweat,
“God, how can you ask this from your own?”
“This is what I will,” the Voice replies
Trusting heart, yet fearing mind intones,
“I will do exactly as you say.”
Sleepless in the prison bars of night
Waiting, hoping for the morning light
Rising at the breaking of the day
“Hurry now. We must be on our way.”
Blow by blow the sticks fall in their place
Wrenching at the heart strings of his love
Staggering beneath the load of dread
Tear-filled eyes behold the road ahead
Downcast eyes lift up to see the place
There it is, the place where He has said.
Weary footsteps plod the upward track
Footfalls echo as they trek alone
Climbing silence breaks with spoken fear
“Father, we have all, but not the lamb.”
“Fear not, God has provided a lamb.”
Heavy, dusty stones built in a mound
Twisted wood atop the gnarly stones
Atop the off’ring submits to death.
“Oh God, provide for yourself a lamb.”
Death is lifted trembling to the sky
The skies explode, the heavens rend:
“Abraham!”
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