Choosing Truths

Old cheese on a wet napkin
Mouse-eaten partly such that
Now it's holy;
Gold-coloured wax wraps
The surface, shining bright,
Illuminating darkness so
Hard-won by one old fromageur
Who wanted for his masterwork to
Never go to mould.

Mouse-eaten old cheese on a wet napkin
Growing holier by the day
Thanks to gnawing teeth
Housed in mouths that
Whisper no prayers;

Don't tell the priest:
He´ll get angry and say
"Only faith and devotion make one Holy."

Don´t try to persuade him:
He won´t trust your facts.
If priests believed in proof
They wouldn't need faith
To help choose their truths.