Foundling

 

 

A baby in a basket cries,

abandoned in the rush-hours

when Aldi opens doors

to the new saints,

haloes all crooked

needing polish

and sleep.

 

                                                                                                    Who is Pharaoh?

                                                                                              Where is he?

 

                                                                            We cannot wait

                                                                 twenty more years

                                                        for Canaan

                               whose sunlit uplands

                         were promised

                   so long ago

               now.

 

More than one angel

passes over-head,

whatever we mark

on our doors.

 

   We are frightened,

         Pharaoh may come

            with chariots and swords

 

                   or promises and words.

 

                                              And the babe is found

                                                by Asiyah-

                                                  in-her-hijab

                                                     and taken to

                                                      her bosom

                                                         with no milk.

 

                                                         Asiyah’s trolley is full

                                                               she shops for Abba,

                                                                 Umma, Uncle, Auntie

                                                                      and enough in-laws

                                                                           to make her an outlaw.

 

                                                                                          But

                                                                                      a baby!

                                                                                  A gift

                                                                        from one

                                                           or other God.

 

 

They have spared us

the blood

in the water,

amphibians,

the lice,

the flies

the foot and mouth,

the boils,

the hail and fire,

the locusts and the dark,

and this time it is the first and the newborn

for who are they but the oldest

and the youngest?

 

If Moses comes,

will we

recognise him?