Balaam’s Donkey

Wretched man! Always beating me so hard
For such little things – but still I saved you.
Against the sword-angel I stood your guard,
For which you beat my backside back and blue.
For once at last I got to answer back,
Then you saw the angel who set you straight,
Lowering the staff you had raised to smack,
Struck by the shock into a wiser state.
You had to bless what some would have you curse:
Israel over its jealous neighbours,
To wish them better though kings wished them worse,
God’s holy will drives the prophet’s labours.
And so this donkey assisted God’s grace,
Remembered with love by God’s chosen race.

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