Everything’s
a holy book
looking for
a page turner.
Every day’s
a bookmark
rising to hold
a place in the book.
Every time
that spine is cracked
it’s the first time
it’s ever bent.
Every now and then
someone comes with a crayon
and disgfigures a book
but it hardly matters.
Every ruined book
is a good book
for someone even if only
as a money maker.
Every mythology
needs a bound edition,
even if it’s a dead faith
written off in a dead language.
Every time I think of this
I expect to be struck down
by childhood lightning
or at the very least a plague.
But then I realize
that any God I can believe in
has to be a librarian,
there are so many books
to see, and that God
would love them all,
and wouldn’t hate anyone
who can read.
