Age of Enlightenment

by Judy Loest

When the man in our dream group
Said he found God in Wal-Mart
In plumbing, I could see it clearly:
The poor mortal struck dumb
Like Isaiah in the temple, blinded
By light in the unholy aisles
Of modern alchemy, could see him fall
To his knees among the white bones
Of ceramic knobs and PVC pipe
Like Ezekiel in the desert.

It was a scene right out
Of the Old Testament study book
My mother bought in 1952
From a traveling salesman,
Its black and white engravings
Of Bible stories as apocalyptic
As life in those Virginia mountains,
When Hell was as close as a wild mushroom
We called the Devil’s snuff box,
When the sky contained Heaven.