Sister Poetry

I understand.
You heard the call, and resolution
Grew on greenwood (In those days.)
Your “Here I am” stood tall
to start its three-day climb
under a weight of firewood.

I understand.
For every Isaac-heavy question
that detained, some youthful answer
bounded on ahead---sustained.

I understand. You came so close!
Even piled your stones
Arranged your wood. . . Just
knowing how long you stood.

You see,
I, too, once glanced into
surrounding thickets
only to discover
that there was no ram!