Exodus

  

What did those ancients talk about,

Wandering lost in the desert?

Did they debate the existence

Of God?  Did one vain Hebrew point

To the morning’s wealth of manna,

Another pointing to the sand

Floating in his Sabbath wine?

What did those Hebrews talk about?

Did they long for days in Egypt—

The sweet surety of bondage:

A Pharaoh who fed them, clothed them,

Beat them into blind submission?

This God is our new Egypt,

One Hebrew shakes his fist.

Sheket! says another. He’ll hear you!

What did those Hebrews fight about?

And what of Moses, up on that mountain?

What did he make of burning bushes,

Bitter fog and lighting strikes?

Did he beg for God’s good pardon?

Did he plead for prophecy?

And what of Aaron, down among the flock,

His sister Miriam singing songs,

Dancing for a golden calf?

*

At night, sometimes, I stand alone

In my backyard, fog spilling down

From Twin Peaks.  I can almost hear

The cedars creak, the palm fronds rustling.

Are they speaking to each other?

Pointing at me, laughing—

A Moses still uncertain, still unsure

If the fog has called my name?

Poem, Revised, 2009