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Of Abraham and Angels

silhouette of a person looking up at a pink cloudy sky
I took an oath.
For land and long life.
Though when?
I cannot remember.
But there was fire.
And I was spared.
Years passed.
My looking forward ceased.
And as I looked down,
I found.
There was blood on my hands.
I clocked more miles.
But now, I am trading in walking.
For the moment to stand and face my sin.
Will my pain dissuade me?
Will my past betray me?
I have no answer.
Just that long and final walk between surrender and siege.
And, angels.
I could have sworn I heard the voices of angels.
Crying, “Spare him.”
But I wasn’t sure if they meant him.
Or me.
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