Sarah, did you follow my footmarks, or did I yours?: A poem 

Was the father of a religion Abram or Abraham? 

He travelled through three lands, starting from Ur 

where the tall ziggurats all seemed like death 

when he had to make his sacrifice at the altar 

that his son should be taken, for proof of loyalty 

I am no God who asks for the blood of your sons 

It was never me who asked for flesh and blood 

Do you all know who did? Ask Noah, whereupon 

the landing at Ararat, he made his offertory to whom? 

I am not that cruelty; I, myself, was subject to too much cruelty 

I am more than the many names of Shemhamporae 

I became human time and again, always risking my own son 

who was my father as well, through the ages! 

Abraham walked through the would-be Israel 

onto Egypt, where he found that his Sarah, was 

too beautiful to call his own, due to the lust of the 

Egyptians. My own Sarah, would never be called  

my sister by me! The two of us have had so many lives together, that outnumber 

the numerous ages. Each a reciprocation of the other. How would I know,  

if I followed her footsteps in this infinitum, or she did mine? 

I still have no whisper of a clue, after all this eternity, 

when she can be cruelly taken away from me, to be compelled to  

and unintentionally cause me deceit,  

instead of being truly mine and divine!