Hidden (Russell)

The cloud and incense smoke have been replaced
With white lab coats and post-name alphabets;
The thick, embroidered veil is now the race
To their chemistry sets.

Oh, we believe in miracles today
We don’t deny the truth, reality:
The glory-clothed King over all still reigns
But hides too well, we think.

Nature hates vacuums, even those of sound;
There is no place where words are not heard.
He is not far, desiring to be found;
He is there–be assured.



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