To Play in Moses’ Beard

an ekphrastic poem about Michelangelo’s Moses (look it up first if you don't know it!)

Oh to play in Moses’ beard, in twisting waterfalls of stone,
And climb, and slide, and hide within, and tuck myself in a curl,
If I could dance on Moses’ hands, in a dress of rock which shone,
En pointe, pirouette on his nails, on each of his knuckles, twirl,

On stone tablets, I would tiptoe, like a balance beam-ing act,
Seeing the Law the Lord inscribed, I would trace it with my hands,
Then hop and perch on the prophet’s knee, to tremble as he shakes,
Next I would scale his folding robes, till I stood gazing at his face,

Inside his ear, I would crawl, attempt to hear the Voice he heard,
Stare right in his stony eye, and burst at the reflection there,
Put my cheek to his furrowed brow, to listen to thoughts whispered,
Eager for more, I would catch a curl, up to his crown of hair,

And last, which should have been the first, I would sit on his right horn.
Looking out – oh! I would see the back of The Almighty Lord.