The sun shone in its full strength as
he gathered his flock near the alter his father had built.
It was the day he came alone for the first time
his faith flowering in the cool of the day.
The first born of his new flock
the first yearling, white, unblemished
the first birth among the sheep that were fully his.
Many years he worked his father’s herd,
paid in lambs, a flock his own,
delivered to him now come of age.
He led them to the pasture to feed
Brought them down to the river to drink.
He slept near them.
He spoke and they knew his voice.
Yahweh had shone kindness to him,
Elohim had given him abundance.
He said the prayer taught to him,
that his father had said every Rest-day.
He took up the flint knife,
Laid hands on the head of the young sheep
He plunged the knife in and made quick work of the offering
spread the sacrifice upon the alter
lit the pile upon the fire wood
The flesh consumed in smoke
The young man’s psalm heard sweetly upon the wind
The angel stood watching, proud
The flaming sword blocking the gate
There in “the way” the young man sacrificed as close
as he could, to the tree of life
Abel relished the work of Yahweh and praised his name
The Lord beheld and was pleased
A little way off, his brother stood