(1) Hush walked
As we wended our way
Avert the dust and ash.
(2) It was Tuesday, and the sky
Grayed, older than Methuselah.
(3) I wended my way, my God:
Neither the green nor the blue
Collaborated for us;
(4) And the patchwork of creation stirred
Not from its office,
But remained patched together
By your eminent will.
(5) Though it is not your will
Be done; thought not the carriage of Nature.
(6) For if that Yahweh crossed the mind of sorrow
(Wailing boiled up from soup, the starved
Consuming children for their dinner)
(7) Desolation would be rent; even as the tabernacle;
Lo, even as the Son of God most high.
(8) On that day’s tired eve,
I said to my mother: “Do not pain me to live,
That you may eat a last supper.”
(9) She answered me in tears: “Is living eating?
Should I consume my son to live one day more
And die alone, among my enemies, a stranger?”
(10) For the agony was not in our stomachs
But in our hearts; the aching God persists.
(11) Alas, there is no salve for a vengeful Father;
Just so, I count all my bones.
(12) Light cedes to darkness, and
I await with eager expectation the Day of Midian,
The Trial of the Blessed.
(13) Are you not there, my God, my Punisher and Redeemer?
(14) For I wait, with patience bound as my injury
Not that I may crush my enemy;
Not that I may destroy the home of my offender;
Not that I may tear the evil-doer asunder;
(15) That I may seat justice of my own accord.
And by gracious gifts, recount the blessings of my day.