The Love of Money is the Root of All Evil
Christ’s Object Lessons
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
I, like the bearded mage of the tales,
knew the language of stones and flowers.
~ Lorca, “Invocación al laurel”
The Magi knew of gems. They knew stones
Of deserts. Kings of myrrh trees know their flowers,
The cream, red, yellow flowers make sticky moans
Of fragrance warm as evening desert hours.
Their petals form a desert star. We do
Not need to know more. This is why they brought
Him myrrh. The fragrant gum that oozes through
Cut bark is what they thought of. It is fraught
With wounding. Frankincense is much the same
In sourcing, sap (from slicing) hardened like
A tool of torture, flowers smell of shame.
The smell is warm, too like a blood-smeared spike.
But why the gold? All evil flows from gold:
The love of it performs a stranglehold.
~ Phillip Whidden