To Be Like Moses

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Swift of thought and quick of tongue
The voice of his blessed brother
His own unheard
Slender hands collect Egyptian gold
A smile quirks his lips
Oh to be like Moses
Not a shadow of a prophet
But the creator
Even if it only a calf
A golden one
Heat of the forge fire
Against sliding metal
Fiery like the blazing bush
He should have seen
Out of the flames
A god to the people
His freedom
With delicate horns
These are your gods oh Israel
Believe in them and just once
In him
Raised above his head
To speak for himself at last
Himself, that is
And Moses.





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