2) Years In The Wilderness

he sat in the shade
of the burning bush
and contemplated
the days of sacrifice

sometimes he held the knife,
other times he lay on the altar
and wondered if he was worth
the substitution of another animal

his dry lips mouthed
the mirage of the memories
of when he was told
that he could never control
which side of the knife
was to be his fate

now there was no such voice
to guide his path
and he prayed the caravan
would reach the oasis
before he again fell victim
to the thirst with no end

wearily he arose,
old for his years
yet young for what he faced,
his steps moved slowly
through the sand
that buried his emotions
deep past his touch

today was just one more tomorrow
without hope
and yesterday was where
he didn’t wish to return
though he longed
for the coolness of its embrace