Family Bible

It used to look old,
cracked and worn from turning.
Everyday it sat on the oak table
like a glass candy dish
waiting to be opened
and its contents devoured.

It never seemed to mind
all the attention going elsewhere.
Quietly it would sit,
patiently waiting its turn.

We always came back.
Like it was calling us,
when life fell apart
we retreated to the wisdom
and worn pages of hope.
But that didn't matter.
It loved us just the same.

I let it fall once,
like a normal book.
Crumpled pages, torn binding,
coffee marred Proverbs.
It hit the wood like a hot plate
shattering around the feet
of my embarrassed mother.

But that didn't matter.
It just waited to picked up.
Patient and diligent
just like I had read.

It used to look old,
wordy, out of date.
But it doesn't mind.
It just waits for us to see
beyond the thees and thous.

Maybe someday I will.