Religion dwells in glass cases
in dimly lit enclaves,
dark grottoes of light; beehive cells
where monks in solicitous solitude
scripted holy verse.
Gospel on calves’ vellum,
beetle wing peacocks, oak apple spirals,
Christ in lapis lazuli;
apostles, saints, and triskeles with
crosses crossing all.
Men of holy inspiration
turning darkness into light
with insular majuscule.
Saving impudent civilization,
irreverent as Molly Malone
bathing in Dublin’s dark pool.
