My Son, Lost

My son, lost

Blood of my spirit, not my body

You watched calmly as I split the wood

And stacked the stones

No voice from heaven

But sound of your mother breaking

Foretold that the knife would not be stayed

Warned no scapegoat was coming

Surely the saints

Have seen with the eyes of Ezekiel

The wheel of fire, devoid of comfort

Only grief and terror

I have heard the prayers of such holy men

And I still pray

(Non-commercial use free provided attribution is made.)

http://nothinghypothetical.wordpress.com/2010/03/19/my-son-lost/

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