Faith of Our Fathers . . .
(for Gerry Kennedy)
living still:
David, king and chosen,
hurls his weeping
across his lifeless victory:
O Absalom, my son, my son!
living still:
Job, just and righteous,
magnet of bad news,
swept out ever more to sea
by successive tsunamis
barely floats on his scrap of ashes:
I alone have escaped to tell you.
living still:
Jacob, old and starving,
brought up to Egypt
out of famine,
pulls his youngest
from the bloodied mouth
of a chimera:
I must go and see him before I die.
Faith of our fathers
living still
in hearts tumultuous
in veins all tangled up
still living
thanks to undying love.
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