Laws in the Ark of the Covenant Made of Acacia Wood but Disguised with Gold
“We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence…” ~ Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
The Bible’s bushes, never blue, bend more
To lavenders and purples, or to white
And pink. The preacher finds it hard to soar
From these, but then the anchorite
Can close her eyes and meditate alone
On any color, blossom or perfume
Though incense might block blossoms from the throne
Of zinged theophany. More like a doom
Epiphanies of God Himself come not
From flowers, not even if a holy blue.
The Buddha found the revelation sought
Yet not of God, but bodhi’s petaled view.
The Bible’s trees might teach more truth, but laws
