“It is not the sound of victory,
it is not the sound of defeat;
it is the sound of singing that I hear.”
Descending from smoke-covered mountaintop
Shrouded in shadow and dust, sparks of flame
Eyes burning with hatred.
The dancing, singing, slows – stops.
The sad silence of rebuke falls quickly
And the celebration is become a festival of terror.
His anger consumes the calf,
And the law is broken at the feet
Of the transgressors.
But still – there is love, pain, in the eyes of the father.
He begs for their forgiveness.
He begs to be damned with them.