When idol becomes icon
The image turns grave
With darkest deception
Convex turns concave.

Windows on heaven
The icon’s true aim
If means becomes end
It’s not quite the same.

But breaking the making
Iconoclasm’s wrath
Is equally misguided
A mischosen path.

See through the icon
The larger design
Wineskins best function
To convey wine.

Sacred cows gilded
Become golden calves
We worship the image
Of things that we have.

Beauty without truth
The glass becomes stained
Discoloration
Verity strained.

Like art that is tainted
Like thoughts quite insane
Showers of blessings
Become Noah’s rain

July 31 2006