the scripture stood there
small and simple.
almost looked a little lonely
but it was proud and fierce
and would not be overlooked.
it was seen alright.
She gazed at it with such hate and disdain
it was as if a beast were tapped persistently on the shoulder
and it reared its ugly head
in a red and blind fury.
Holiness and Life clashed
with a stagnant and death filled soul
for if the Spirit is not breathing there
what other explanation is there?
Words spit and spewn
caked in dried blood
but that Word, the WORD
still stood there
silently
but very much present
offending
in the best way possible.
the response to the lash
was a soft answer
fragrant with the breath of
the Holy Spirit
not without a flesh wound
but that can heal in time.
that Scripture.
it still stands there.
alone, but not.
If you look closely
it takes on the
form of
a
shield.