A study in description

Something I did for school.  The assignment was to describe something with more than just its physical appearance; to tell its essence in words.  It took a couple tries with a couple different subjects, but I finally settled on this one.

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The ancient Bible was one of the first things I saw when I stepped into the room. Though its cracked leather cover, faded and worn from ages of poring and studying, was covered in a layer of fine, featherweight dust, it seemed to glow with an aura of sage wisdom and truth untold. The tome could have been as old as the earth itself - as I turned the first page, it cracked with the care and weight of being moved from its place. I replaced it and ran my hand along the cover, leaving an irregular blotch of dustless area that seemed to remove some of the hallowedness of the book. The dust gave it a sense of being the holiest book on earth - though it contained the same words as any cheap pocket Bible you could buy, it was not the same. If there was a Bible that God wrote with his own hand, this was the one. With gravity and splendor it had sat there in the dust for centuries, away from the prying eyes of skeptical readers, its enormous bulk threatening to crack the altar on which it sat with every tiny tremor of the earth, whether they be caused by marauding armies or tectonic plates. In silence, I backed away, and at the door I paused and looked at it again. Even though the high, gothic architecture soared above my head, even though the rows and rows of ancient and stolid pews vied for my attention, even though the golden crucifix, glorious and untarnished, hung in the nave, to me the stalwart and hallowed old book was the only thing in the room.