tempting details

Harvey S. Mozolak

i.
baking in the hot sun
of an un-secluded sky
over an empty table of solitary land
like oven stones hot from a fire
stoked for loaves of bread
come sweet and soft for breakfast
his toes turn over some rocks
with his sandal
a small scorpion escapes
making its wretched way across the sand…
his raspy voice smoothing away
the creature’s crooked path
be gone sting crushed
beneath the path of God
like a desert wind written
evened by the sentence
even of the wordless mouth of God

ii.
then to the trumpet corner
where Sabbath and Holy Days
are announced with pinnacled shofar
whose high pitch angels must hear
and gather to overshadow pinioned ark
and arise to descend in fragrant smoke
of wounded seeping trees
among bled and burnt animals
if— then hurl heaven away
to earth God says his wings
will fly your throw from throne
away above all vain and empty promises…
this is no test flight
but for God a burial
beneath the fall of human
unkindness hidden even in temple
stones unmoved by prayers
mouthed in mute acknowledgement
of some place above

iii.
you should be comfortable here
high over things kingdoms forests
fields ice pack oceans steams
cities villages and caravans
I can and will with blast of horns
show far and near
who and where you are
and place their wonder
like this grand view within your reach
if but you credit me with a certain power
a sameness to you at least
to sit at an equal game
perhaps a board
and play a contest
similar players you and I
a nod of your head
you go first will do…
worship the Lord your God
I WILL serve only one I AM
as I WAS
and on a higher mountain write
with my silence
this head bowing into death
for the life
of those whose feast I left
to fast

then angels in a hurried hush
sing him a praise before his meal
is given
to a hungry world