Holy

floats,

Alone,

filling, yet beyond, space and place,
unrestricted
by times steady, measured pace,
unbuttressed
by beam or stone or Writ,
unconfined
by human minds
flimsy constraints,

Free

to blow where It chooses,
to caress who ever She desires,
to pummel, scorge or crucify
as He wills.

Any edifice raised
to contain
is,
in its blueprints,
conceived and built on sand.

Any defining construct,
any cherished epifiany
is worshiped
solely,
in its insufficiency.

Only from a boundless desert sea
might arise such a Deity.
Only in the awed and fearing
minds of believers
might be born such fruitless attempts
to restrain.

A mighty fortress
might their god be.

But

Holy

will never be
mere mighty fortress.