I LOVE YOU LORD

 (opening lines of a much longer poem)

I love you Lord Jesus, I love you fine Lord,

Who can wondrously, carelessly, joyfully afford,

To wind up your wind machine and run it all night,

To help humble Jews escape Egypt, in flight.

It plowed through the Sea called red burrowing, pushing

Water to north of it, water to south creating an isthmus

Creating the opposite of a stream mouth

The wind came from the east, plowing a groove

Of dry sandy marching ground in the sea’s belly,

Pilling water north of it, stacked up like jelly,

And water to south of it equally stood,

(Waves folded their hands, as all good waves should.)

And when you were done proving You could

Do what those gods were falsely proclaimed,

(Showing how they were all illfully named)

You closed up your wind machine, closed it so tightly,

Egyptians were caught in it, sadly but mightily  —

-eab, 1/03