Aidan Kelly: Including Paganism
In the holy of holies
The boy from the hearth
Has already drunk the juice
From her sacred poppies.
He is not afraid
As he is swung through the fire
That can be seen from miles away.
When the swing returns,
On it is a black ram.
On its fleece the initiates
Will stand next year
As they take their oaths.
As he raises the knife,
Abraham is not afraid.
He already knows
The still, small voice
Will speak again.
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