Jack, Jacob, Yakov: A poem 

He could laugh a lot like a clown, you know he would 

But you know that a clown has a lot left to brood 

The deep sea stands between him and what is good 

And God knows his laughter is never too crude 

He could turn despair into pride, yes he could 

There’s a fire always burning from his wood 

For them who never knew the difference, never understood 

The distance mattered in everything he withstood 

You can see the joker in the pack is but the magician 

He is able as a label that doesn’t say I can but can 

And if you look at him, he is bloody never wan 

He was Jack, Jacob, Yakov; and he always ran 

God knows his duty and love was his inspiration 

There is miraculous divinity in his perspiration 

They can take away his victory, but not his mission 

There is mystery binding history in such conviction 

And may the story be told when it’s time to unfold 

that the Jack in the pack was lettered with gold 

For God doesn’t withhold what Man leaves untold 

Jacob wrestled so much, he was just too bold