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                      After

                      Published by Merryn Rutledge at July 3, 2025
                      Categories
                      • Poetry
                      • Religious
                      Tags
                      • Abraham and Isaac
                      • Merryn Rutledge
                      • mistrust
                      • poetry
                      Ram sitting on ground - TEXT - After, Poetry, Merryn Rutledge - image from Abraham and Isaac of the Bible

                      Image created on Canva

                      “…God put Abraham to the test. ‘Abraham, Abraham,’ he called. ‘Here I am,’ he replied. ‘Take your son,’ God said, ‘your only child Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him as a burnt offering…”  After Genesis 22, Jerusalem Bible translation

                      Yesterday the child I bore disappeared.
                      As though he died. How could he not?
                      His own father.

                      When Abraham raises his voice to call him,
                      the boy moves his hand to the thong
                      where his knife hides, waiting.

                      He will not let his father stand behind him.
                      He chops wood, but will not carry.
                      The boy wears fear.

                      Last night, startling awake, 
                      I saw my son’s unblinking eyes burning.
                      His body curled, not resting, as in my womb,

                      but in a crouch.
                      Tensed to spring? Trying to hide? Tied?
                      He covered his neck with his hands.

                      Pale neck that ribbons red each time
                      his father looks his way.
                      Frail nape I kissed,

                      that bears a purple welt
                      where the rope bit
                      when he lay bound.

                      Nor is the man the same,
                      suspended — or caught — between the voice
                      and the broken promise of a father.

                      What blistering belief.
                      What test that sundered son and sire.
                      What kind of creator?

                      Nor am I as I was.
                      How can I lie with a man
                      to whom the smell of blood clings.

                      Through two lifetimes we longed for our laughing boy.
                      Now I make my covenant with my son, and loving.


                      Find more poetry of all veins at the MockingOwl Roost.

                      • Pilate’s Calvary – Poetry
                      • The Golmyrie – a Dark Fiction Poem
                      • My Raging War – Poetry
                      • The Flood – Challenging Emotive Poetry
                      • Nothing More Than a Lesson – Poetry Reading
                      • I Guess No One Has a Phone in Heaven, a Poem of Loss
                      • Dread Mind – Poetry
                      • The Eyes of the Soul – Poetry
                      • Defervescence – Love Poetry
                      Merryn Rutledge
                      + postsBio

                      Formerly a literature and writing teacher and then a national leadership consultant, Merryn Rutledge now devotes herself to writing poems and book reviews, teaching about poetry craft, and working for social justice. Her work has appeared in Pensive, Muddy River Review, Multiplicity, Speckled Trout Review, Aurorean, Poetry Porch, and other journals. As a consultant, Merryn’s research on leadership and organizational culture was published in peer-reviewed journals and as book chapters. Merryn also sings, dances Zumba-style, plays with her grandchildren, and enjoys the woods, marshes, and beaches near her home in Massachusetts.

                      Find more from Merryn on her website or X (formerly Twitter).

                      • Merryn Rutledge
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