idols

words on stone
words on paper
books of words
libraries and churches
pages of scripture
before which we
bow down

but devotion is no excuse 

to tear down our ancestors’ vain graffiti 

as if by that act we save ourselves from sin

and the devout are sore afraid 

that graven images will displace their gods

so afraid that they would turn the machinery of war 

on statues and icons to blow their blasphemous stone 

to kingdom come

meanwhile their holy books are gilded 

in exotic bindings like treasure

holy tomes in dimly lit interiors 

where reverence and adulation

masquerade as respect

dust is settling on ruins as I grieve 

for a past murdered in fear as I grieve

at how we value zeal instead of faith as I grieve

at how we seek to rub out the stains of difference

even when the worn-down visions of the dead 

no longer haunt our nights nor shatter our fragile belief

long ago the atavistic dead bowed to statuary 

and knew no better but now we are come 

to build monuments whose spires and domes 

touch heaven herself 

thus we lay tribute to our invisible and ineffable gods 

our devotion has no place for idols and idolatry 

and we must destroy all images in human shape 

lest they mimic the faces of god and seduce us 

and when our terrible work is done we kneel again 

at the altars in our holy places kneel before the book itself 

hands clasped in prayer we prostrate ourselves 

and beg heavenly reward

we plead only this excuse our submission is not like theirs

we worship and obey the book and the stone altar 

the robes and vestments are only symbols of our piety

heaven forbid

we do not worship the book 

nor idolise the words within

© BH, 2018

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Something on TV about Palmyra and how archaeologists were put to death for keeping the secret of treasured artefacts. It’s not a modern phenomenon, this iconoclasm. It’s the frenzied first step in the victors’ rewriting the history of their triumph. It seems to me a most irreligious thing to do. It speaks of the underlying fear that no victory could ever exorcise. Fear, and denial. As I say, heaven forfend that we should ever be so callous .

And  it’s why I’ve capitalised nothing here. I don\t want to add any hint of reverence since none is due…