Moses, Moses: turn aside. All your life
you�ve had pears and apples, honey, eggs
had easy rescues, an Egyptian name.
I will take you out of Egypt,
those green shallows, so fecund they must be cleared
to plow. I will clear and plow you. I will hollow you,
make you empty as a flume, as a flute, as a fire
that does not consume. Have faith.
Take off your shoes. Take up this snake.
I will turn your stutter-tongue
to living flame. I will send plagues.
You alone will see me face to face.
For you alone I strip myself
to open desert. Call on me,
I breathe out quails. Strike my face,
I bleed sweet water. My foundling prince,
beloved murderer, I guide you to wander.
From a mountain I will show you the place
you cannot reach, the honey-place,
and with my own hands shield you
from the glory of my face.
I hate this poem.
It's a neat poem, but it doesn't feel as if it comes from your core.
I agree with Pat; it just isn't as intense as your usual. It's nice though.