By Sam Ben-Meir in New York City
When they reached
the foot of Moriah,
the father could no longer
bear to look his son
in the eyes—
and it was then that the boy
knew his fate,
and he felt more pity than fear
when he asked, “Where is the lamb?”
And when they reached the summit,
the boy put forth his hands
to be bound,
without a word being spoken
between them.
The father could not speak
to his son, or stroke his hair,
or give any token of his love.
Anything that would weaken
his resolve was left behind.
And when he raised the knife,
the only sound that could be heard
was the wind upon the trees,
and the boy looked away,
not from fear,
but for the old man’s sake.
Just then a sparrow perched
upon the altar
and cocked its head,
as if to ask Abraham
what he was about.
And when the father
perceived that puzzling glance,
all the resolution he had
gathered dissipated in an instant,
and he was alone with his son,
and he could love him again.
But the boy descended the mountain
a man,
and never again would they embrace
as they had that very morning.
*
Sam Ben-Meir teaches philosophy at the City University of New York, College of Technology. He is the author of Ethical Interanimality: Toward a Relational Philosophy of Nature (Westphalia Press, 2026).