Desirous, since Eden,
are we of knowledge.
We search the stars
and the holy books,
Desperately seeking
in the seen and written.
But its a strange tongue written familiarly,
In symbols of nature and human words,
Of beauty that stirs, reveals and conceals,
Escapes all, but the angelic-tongued gifted.
The spirit of man is not to be denied,
No price is too great for access to magic,
Crafting words and tales in the symbols,
Soothing and tickling, feeding ready ears.
From daily horoscopes
to spellbinding bible-based
eschatological narratives,
Into which sin whispered,
its lies subtly woven:
Lies subverting lies,
Serving the ends of God.
