(This month, a break from the usual fare. In its stead, four short poems on Abrahamic themes)

Ape

A certain type of ape calls itself “Man”.

I’m sure you’re familiar with the one.

It believes it’s part of some divine plan,

that a god spoke a word and it was done,

thus enabling the ape to do the same,

to sing its dreams and make the songs take form,

finding happiness in fortune and fame,

or in providing shelter from a storm.

It has built ships that have sailed to the moon,

and others to study the oceans’ floors.

Yet, with just a wittily drawn cartoon,

it can sway the hearts of bigots and boors.

Perhaps it knows what it’s talking about.

It deserves the benefit of the doubt.

 

Exiles

We descend from the exiles of Delight,

refugees from the land they once enjoyed,

a land where they could not know what was right,

where knowing led to innocence destroyed.

Daughters and sons of those who wandered east,

we now dwell in the Valley of Shadows.

Some become the prey of the hungry beasts,

others learn the usefulness of arrows.

There are those who have left here heading west,

though old tales say their journey will be hard.

They who embark upon the Gardenquest

must face the burning sword of every guard.

The struggle will be worth the seeming strife.

Each victor will eat from the Tree of Life.

 

Brothers

Ishmael and Isaac are fighting again,

each one shaming himself in consequence.

Brothers by birth, they refuse to refrain

from fratricide, despite all evidence

there is no good end to their ancient war,

no peace to be found on their present path.

A time may come when they’ll have gone too far,

leaving both ruined in the aftermath.

The words of the prophets do not condone

this bloody feud which has slandered their names.

Guilt belongs to the warriors alone,

but many others perish in their flames.

What now for these two sons of Abraham,

the olive branch or the battering ram?

 

Wraith

I was born into a society

heavily steeped in lots of Christian lore,

but Truth grows at a tree’s velocity,

and Goodness is looked upon as a chore.

Mercy would be a real revelation

to some who claim adherence to the Faith,

and Wisdom would cause much trepidation

if it were voiced by this blasphemous wraith.

So, I make no attempt at being wise.

It is an attribute I do not own.

It is easier for me to revise

the words of one many claim to have known:

If you want a life not filled with sorrow,

seek the Kingdom, and all else will follow.

 

All works c. 2002

g. r. adams