I put all my bibles in a big box,
Stacked two-high, two long rows,
That was heavy to lift when the lids were closed.
All the books of theology
Endless volumes of philosophy
Filled five more boxes in the trunk of my car
It seemed that one box was lighter than the others
But I didn't think it was worth the time
To weigh them.
I carried them for 30 miles
Until I found the apartment
Of the old lady who bought them from me on the Buy 'n' Sell
She'd only had five dollars when she made the call
Said her home was lonely, her mind was lonesome
I spent more than five dollars buying gas for the trip
Heaving them out of the trunk with a grunt
I asked her if she wanted me to unpack them, put them on her shelf
"Oh, dear! I don't want to put you out!"
I took the first few books from the first few boxes
Running my finger down the spine of an old favorite
I felt a pang of regret
One by one I handed them to her and she placed them on a wooden bookcase next to a television set
Out of order, no sense of alphabetization, she didn't care
It was stupid of me that I did
Two rows across and two rows down
I gave her the last of the bibles
She marveled, "That's a lot of bibles, young man".
"Yes, it is", I agreed and she turned away
I was so glad she didn't ask why I was getting rid of them
What she must have thought
As if it mattered what some crazy old lady with just a five dollar bill thought
Five dollars to buy a few thousand dollars worth of dusty thought and rusted belief
Forty years of crossword puzzles, the easy ones quickly done, the expert ones left unfinished
So many not even begun
As if it mattered that she could never understand how dumbed down I'd become
Falling beneath life's hard demands
Taking the punches, getting back up again
I could never have told her, whether I wanted to or not,
That those books had picked me up and then let me down
Too many times to count
Those books had given me treasure to take it away
They'd taken my heart, swept up the floors
Opened the doors for Legion
They left me with nothing but answers to questions
When questions were easy to answer
And they teased with the only answer that mattered, refused to give that one up
Through pages and pages I waded and waited
For some kind of hope to go on
Something to show for once and for all that the wading would soon meet the shore
I expected too much of ink and wood
To convey what I needed to know
Binders and leaves could never contain the spoken Word
I tried to give her the five dollar bill back
She could have it all for free, it meant nothing to me
The trip had been a nice one, her manners were sweet
She wouldn't take it, though twice I insisted
But she sternly insisted to me
"There's too many bibles in this here lot, you have to take one back from me"
She was right. There were way too many bibles in that lot
I couldn't argue with that
And though my better instinct begged me to flee I got down on my knee
I reached to the bottom shelf, a pain in my back
I picked out a ratty old paper bound NIV
I'd drawn shit all over it to prove that pages and ink can never contain
The living...the breathing...the mystery...the words spoken
Even more importantly
The silence
I took that old tattered book and threw it
In the passenger seat of my car
I never thought about it all the way home
I rid myself of words and language
Driving through the dark night, squinting at the lights of oncoming cars
Dimly aware of the instinct to look away when they got too close...too bright
Turned my eyes to the right for the seconds until
Darkness returned, for the precious time
Before another car came up and over the hill
Up, up, over the hill
In my pocket a five dollar bill
And a quiet bible by my side
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