04-10-2024, 04:36 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-10-2024, 09:28 PM by RiverNotch.)
Tobias and the Angel
Following fairy tale logic, Tobias
was totally clueless at the start
of his long journey to Ecbatana.
The dog he had gotten to guide his blind father
abandoned her post, as he set out,
following him out of loyalty
unsupplemented by wisdom,
and he didn't realise his other companion
was not quite human until the end.
Azarias, the angel called himself,
like one of the youths condemned to burn
by those who would burn down Nineveh
no long count of years later and,
indeed, no long count of years seemed
to separate Tobias from this newfound friend,
albeit in every other way
the two differed greatly by degree:
not only wiser but taller and more comely
was this supposed distant cousin,
this golden-haired son of black-haired Ananias,
such that even the dog forgot
her original loyalty
except that her master was the one
more strongly drawn to him.
At first, Tobias followed his every word
not really knowing what else to do,
which road to take or when to pause
to eat, to wash one's self, to pray,
but soon the pleasure of following orders
from someone other than mother and father
gave way to the pleasure of having someone
through whom the Psalms sung every Sabbath
finally made sense.
And before the bridge across the Tigris,
when Tobias again was following orders
by seizing the half-whale, by wounding his bare chest
with the thrashing fish's fins and scales
yet still holding on, still dragging it to the bank
and bashing its head against a stone,
Azarias, too, was changed:
why his Lord still listened to the cries
of His stubborn and foolish children
finally made sense.
The fire they used to roast their dinner
and dry out the entrails of the river monster
for the salvation of the most comely
Sarah, Tobias' yet-unknown betrothed,
they would not need to warm themselves
retiring for that night.
Following fairy tale logic, Tobias
was totally clueless at the start
of his long journey to Ecbatana.
The dog he had gotten to guide his blind father
abandoned her post, as he set out,
following him out of loyalty
unsupplemented by wisdom,
and he didn't realise his other companion
was not quite human until the end.
Azarias, the angel called himself,
like one of the youths condemned to burn
by those who would burn down Nineveh
no long count of years later and,
indeed, no long count of years seemed
to separate Tobias from this newfound friend,
albeit in every other way
the two differed greatly by degree:
not only wiser but taller and more comely
was this supposed distant cousin,
this golden-haired son of black-haired Ananias,
such that even the dog forgot
her original loyalty
except that her master was the one
more strongly drawn to him.
At first, Tobias followed his every word
not really knowing what else to do,
which road to take or when to pause
to eat, to wash one's self, to pray,
but soon the pleasure of following orders
from someone other than mother and father
gave way to the pleasure of having someone
through whom the Psalms sung every Sabbath
finally made sense.
And before the bridge across the Tigris,
when Tobias again was following orders
by seizing the half-whale, by wounding his bare chest
with the thrashing fish's fins and scales
yet still holding on, still dragging it to the bank
and bashing its head against a stone,
Azarias, too, was changed:
why his Lord still listened to the cries
of His stubborn and foolish children
finally made sense.
The fire they used to roast their dinner
and dry out the entrails of the river monster
for the salvation of the most comely
Sarah, Tobias' yet-unknown betrothed,
they would not need to warm themselves
retiring for that night.