Theology   The scaffolding keeps growing, a mishmash of iron pipes and two-by-fours and bamboo poles and plastic, stuck together with glue and lashed with wire and twine. Workers keep crashing into each other on narrow planks, swarming like ants around a dying tree. The rival architects never agree on any given master plan, and thanks to time and the weather, whole sections keep collapsing — but only to be rebuilt with more steel, more bamboo, more rites, more wrongs, while the vastness within grows ever deeper, darker — a void teeming with birds, filled with the echoing music of their songs.     © Michael Fleming Williamsville, Vermont May 2023