The Roman Eagle seized the Dove
That became the Passion's Holy Wraith
And impaled Him, shrike-like, on the cross;
An offering on his sign of faith.

Then seeking out the Holy Lands
His followers start a dark campaign
Justified with the Holy Hand –
How could they do this in His name?

And if God's love is infinite
Can He not be Allah, too?
Or Vishnu to the Hindi faith?
Or Yahweh to the Jew?

And if, in these enlightened times,
I should give Him Herne the Hunter's face
Should that be labelled as a crime
Or seen as a disgrace?

And though the church is built by man
And not in places overgrown
Though it is built by human hands
Is it not made of living stone?

And is not the Altar, carved with love
Not made from living timber, too?
And is not regard for God above
Etched in the lines of every pew?

And if one man calls it Heaven
Whilst another the Summerlands claim
Why should that, then, matter?
"A rose by any name…"