Abraham was lucky

He raised the knife 
The Angel raised his voice 
His son raised his head 
The lamb raised its hand (proverbially) 

There was no gap 
Nor crevasse of time between 
The Great Offering and
Its Great Recompense 

I killed my dreams 
Months, years ago 
I’m waiting for the thicket to tremble 
The Angel to point 

Michael lives in NYC. He likes it there. He also likes his consulting business, running, community, China, and writing what some would consider to be poetry.

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