A Mosaic Digression



I stand with the law heavy in my arms as stone while around us the night birds swarm the dying of the light.

I watch the stone faces in the sweltering heat, hear the words intoned like living beasts of prey.

Mine eyes dazzle.

In ages past they wished sacrifice, they wished singularity, they wished a king.

What do they wish now? Each stone God gave them.

What will they be given now?

When Moses stood thus did he too debate whether to cast the stone law down, or himself?


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