There's no hidden knowledge;
It's all quite plain.
Behold the Truth
In everything!
Every door open,
Every debt paid,
Every captive free,
Every way made,
Any serpent crushed,
Whenever wine is poured,
Wherever bread is broken,
Even one lame restored.
But we prefer a world
More sophisticated
A garden more private
Than that the Highest and Best
Reveals Himself
In mundane ways
To mundane things,
Yet a child is born
A son is given
Lord of Earth, indeed!
The Same!
Who formed the clay
And breathed into it
Fills it still
As the water fills the sea
A curtain torn
The Spirit loose
Creation restored
And humble dirt
Is wholly saturated
Could be wholly satiated
With the knowledge
Of her God.
By Veronica Boulden
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