Meditation on the Twelfth Floor of Mount Sinai

I am thatiam thatiam
Cold plain and windy mountain
Daysmoke and night fire
And ever-flame.

And I choose you, stutterer,
To be my voice;
And I choose you, murderer
To give my law;
And I choose you, foundling,
To be my son.

And I choose you, lunatic,
To witness to my people;
As you to wander in the desert

Till you die.
For I marked you off from your mother's womb
As I did your father Joseph
For suffering and for prophecy

And for ever-flame.

-- Stephen K. Roney