The finest Moroccan leather tome
sat regally on display,
the Bible from her grandma,
a gift on their wedding day.
Scarcely touched pages still snowy white
graced by golden filigree,
sitting safely inside the curio
for all passersby to see.
To have such a lavish copy as this,
one might say they’re quite blessed
but God looking down from heaven
felt sad rather than impressed.
She told herself she should read it
but with busy cares of life,
work, family and pressing plans,
with excuses her mind was rife.
So sacred writ sat there year after year
just merely a decoration
not life giving words to be read and loved
to procure a soul’s salvation.
But not very far away
on the other side of town
lay a Bible on an oaken coffee table
its cover, a faded brown.
Sticking out from the bottom of this tome
that looked to be bruised and battered,
blue ribbon that served as a bookmark
hung limply, its end frayed and tattered.
Upon opening the much used Book
the pages were yellowed and worn
many were scribbled with notes
and some damaged and slightly torn.
One look at this bestseller’s spine
revealed a binding quite loose.
There was even a page stained purple
from unexpected spilling of juice.
Tear stains were found throughout
that could not be denied
from the owner of this Blessed tome,
evidence she was moved and had cried.
Turning through the threadbare pages,
declared that its leaves were hue loaded,
with verses that with colored pencils
had been categorized and coded.
There were browns for repentance, blues for baptism,
reds for the Holy Ghost,
purples for holiness, greens for creation,
with the One God yellows, the most.
To the eye of the average beholder
this manuscript, not a pretty sight
but God looked down from Heaven
with wonder and delight.
For the Bible was never meant to be
just an ornamental frill,
but to be read and loved and believed
its wisdom, our lives to fill.
No treasures can be found
in pristine and unturned pages
only gold diggers of this Holy Book
can extract the Rock of Ages.