Isaac
©2011 Gibbens/Weston

Where are we going, dear father mine?
Where are we going? Show me a sign.

Up on the mountain, my only boy.
Up on the mountain, my only joy.

Who shall we meet there, who shall we find?
One who is loving, one who is kind.

Why all this kindling when we’ve no lamb?
God will provide, said old Abraham.

First came the binding, then came the knife.
Isaac faced death and the source of his life.

First came the binding, then came the blade.
Isaac said nothing. Abraham prayed.

First came the binding, then came relief.
The hand of an angel plucked Abraham’s sleeve.

Down from the mountain came father and son.
All they had done there was never undone.

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