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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=389210" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Scriptures</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=389210" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">i read the scriptures written in human faces, <br>in calloused hands, in bruises and scars.<br>in the spider's web, in the trail of the snail.<br>in the pot stained with use, <br>in the axe and the plow.<br>in the old woman's silence, <br>in the broken window.<br>in worn out boots, and the broken lock.<br>in the gravel drive, <br>in the eyes of the hungry....<br>in the fear of those oppressed by war.<br>in the dead squirrel's body, <br>in the nest left empty.<br>in the prisoner staring<br>through a window barred.<br>in the old man's chair, <br>a dog's turd and a hill of ants.<br>in the fallen leaf, <br>in the empty room.<br>in solitude and stillness, <br>in the prayer of lonliness.<br>in trash strewn in the alley, <br>in the grave unmarked.<br>in the truth of doubt, <br>in a puddle of rainwater.<br>in fresh cut grass, <br>in the cow fresh milked.<br>in the lover's touch, <br>in the dialogue of silence.<br>in the shovel, the hammer, and the flute.<br>in the grain of the old tree, <br>and the woman giving birth...<br>let us speak of nothing less!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Eric+Cockrell">Eric Cockrell</a></strong></div>