When you are young
belief is hard
but it is hard like death
creeping from the birthing room
bloody, entombed
featureless among the lives
its sadness would compensate
energy that caresses old noblesse
but never will its time oblige.
When you are young
belief is hard
but it is hard like death
creeping from the birthing room
bloody, entombed
featureless among the lives
its sadness would compensate
energy that caresses old noblesse
but never will its time oblige.
Search is the guide
the creeping voices do divide—
a goal not of pearls
but in the rustling of the furls.
The cast net falls
yet in the casting calls
for muted and blinded
seeking kings among the mended.
“Be like the bird that, passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings.”
~Victor Hugo
With Easter just behind us, it seems an appropriate topic, no?
But that’s the thing. We most often associate faith with religious belief–it’s more than that. Faith is believing in something, an all-consuming knowing and passionate belief. The best version of faith, of course, is that which is supported by reason, perhaps even documentable proof. I can have faith in my family’s devotion to one another. One can have faith in a certain person’s dedication to their work. Faith often manifests itself quite firmly in a vocal conscious, but it is inherently a subconscious detail–for it is something so deeply imbedded in us, that we need not truly think on it to know it is true in our minds.
And that’s the key, by the way: “in our minds.” Faith varies, person to person. As it should be. For no one should suffer the woes of blind faith–the mob mentality faith, belief not for the sake of ourselves, but because others would have us believe it so–for this, as matched by few others, has a potential for such devastating acts the world itself should (and has) quiver in dread of it.
Faith is, above all things, personal. So think: what do you have faith in?
“Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.”
~Rabindranath Tagore
“Faith and doubt both are needed – not as antagonists, but working side by side to take us around the unknown curve.”
~Lillian Smith
A crumb cannot sustain
no more than a man abstain
in his own right thinking
he can escape the linking
of opinion – it’s like drinking
in how it struck,
without the luck;
–
At least the bottle throws a bone,
table-scraps of joy, alone;
some people, they cry
don’t dream of heaven, but they lie:
ain’t a man that ever did die
didn’t sniff it up like cocaine–
once, the thought, even in disdain.
* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well–they’re a skilled bunch of poets, with a strong and supportive community. Enjoy!
I have not seen the light.
It burns
Me but I know
it is around Me
and I cannot feel it
on my skin this fire
Dances without Desire
Dies without Devotion
and wallows in its ashes
for a man
without Faith
knows neither Hope
nor Fear
but the binds of
Mortality does not lift
and excitement fades
with Life, failing
to elicit the possibility
of what may lie
beyond the stars
of time-locked
Existence.
He gazes down from hea’n above,
Watching through a powdered dove.
His people walk the Earth below,
Dreaming of what they can not know.
He sighs and turns away,
As his people begin to go astray.
He wanders then to ancient hall,
Where so many ‘fore had come to fall.
Broken statues linger here,
Of fallen Gods who’d known this fear.
That noble Odin,
That beauty Benten,
Oh great Anubis!—
All fell into the great Abyss…
Fear begins to creep,
Even Gods are known to weep—
Is he destined for this same grim fate?
Can he only pray and wait?
He is as great as any passed,
And his kingdom is so very vast;
He looks into their wand’ring eyes,
Ever watching from the skies.
Is this God destined for the same grim fate,
That fell on those before him?
They say he is so great a being—
But can he face that test of time,
That felled those powers all,
That came before him
In those days of old?
Do you know the story of the Easter Bells in Europe? Throughout the year, Europe is set to the ringing of the bells, save the Christian Good Friday and Holy Saturday. It is a token of mourning. Yet on Easter day they ring out once more, as a celebration of their savior’s resurrection. On this day, millions of people are set to celebration across the world.
Accordingly, this first quote of the week is in honor of the Easter weekend.
I think of the garden after the rain;
And hope to my heart comes singing,
“At morn the cherry-blooms will be white,
And Easter bells be ringing!”
~Edna Dean Procter, Easter Bells