This was a sonnet poem I composed a few years back on the theme of Methuselah and the flood. Enjoy.
This too-old skin drinks in the deluged sun
Adonai casts on this blighted shadow.
End, harsh mercy, what futile blood begun
Nine-hundred three score and nine years ago.
Earth now cleansed from our craft, our carnival;
Aborted genius, no wisdom imbued.
Contradict malice in sardonic call,
Its hubris’ tantrum, Eve’s nursery eschewed.
Evil, from good, we’ve for Adam derived
With intemperance, misstep and attack,
And now sins’ flood I’ve reluctant imbibed
This flesh drowned, this essence’s Eden intact.
And now in soaked disease I peacefully wrestle
Seeing shalom’s seed off in distant vessel.