Oh you fools!
You so-called experts!
You crowd into your museums
Strutting from aisle to aisle
Pretending to know all.
Have any of your paintings
Managed to rival the sunset
That God paints across the sky every night?
Have any of your composers
Bested the musical babbling of a brook?
How can you worship your artists,
Flocking on pilgrimages to their works
Enshrining their homes,
Kissing the soles of their shoes?
And ignore the greatest artist of them all?
You rush to the cathedrals,
To see the statues,
But ignore His greatest work.
Oh you fools!
Try not to teach me
Until you’ve taken in a sunset.
Bother me not
Until you’ve lied on the banks of a river,
Listening to the wistful melody.
And don’t try to talk to me
Until you’ve embraced my Lord.