What is faith?

“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

Welcome to Rapture

Inspired by all this silly Rapture business so many are apparently getting up in arms about today. Because, yes, that’s correct, the world is apparently going to end today…never mind the man that made the prediction made the same prediction in 1994…

Into my maw impart

All sympathy, with mild ecstasy

The will to persevere

The thought—life

It ends in a note

Complacency

Was the hymn

Never mind the words

Rewritten by old hands

Every time the clock clicks past

The deadened hour.

Y2K rings no bells

I suppose

But Heaven kissing you with earthquakes—

Divine.

So what are you doing at the end of all times? Personally, I’m ushering things out with a BBQ. Seems the classy route to take.

Sustain

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!