Jesus had a crown of thorns,
And he was still God’s son,
Played out by God’s own plan.
I ponder, why is the bible filled
With stories of fathers betraying sons
Like Abraham almost did.
And that bond, between father and son
Is the one that keeps the name going forward
And preserves the heir in one.
I look at Jesus and Isaac,
And I look at my father, still giving
Me gas money, and I can’t help but wonder
How precious the bond between
Father and son is. One day I will stand
On his grave, with no words to pacify
My grieving heart, thankful
That he wasn’t like God or Abraham.
My father could only do one thing wrong;
He protected me from this world,
When he should have let me go,
To the waiting claws of tigers.
So that I too could earn my stripes.