Unshaken

Like wriggling fish,
scripture slips our grasp.
Language changes, ripples,
migrates over time.
Our fathers wrested Christ from writ,
obscured and exiled him to desert.
Sherem tried to flatter him away
even from wilderness.

If words are water,
God’s are a brisk river running
one eternal round
from mountain to sea to sky.
Plunge in. Bury yourself,
unbraced against the Spirit.
Let Him shiver through,
purify like icy fire. He will
become clear to you.

Submerged in vivid oracle,
you will remain undisturbed
when little boats cut the surface.

• Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry

• Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com