Holy Redeemer, look out upon
Thy tribes assembled, well-
poised at the foot of
Thy great mount, awaiting
orders; fearing Thee, revering
Thee, hoping in Thy name
for the coming of our Lord.
This is no Ararat, upon which we emerge; neither
is it Moriah (Lord no, not Moriah!) nor feared
Sinai, upon which our toes nigh dread:
We wait alongside Zion, the City of
in the cool wash of divine light
bright waters leaping at the coronation.