PAD 24 - Faith

For today’s prompt, write a faith poem. For some people, faith means religion. For others, faith means trusting in science and mathematics. Still others, think George Michael’s “Faith” just as some immediately conjure up Faith Hill. Regardless of where you put your faith (or don’t), today’s poem gives you an opportunity to express yourself.

Faith

You cannot cut a flame with scissors.

You cannot knit socks from the fleece of clouds.

You cannot guess at the nap dreams of a tiger.

You cannot see at the bottom of the ocean.

(You have not grown a lamp to see by)

You can't even breathe there - though you can imagine you can.

Your dreams take you across wide freeways

and into high water.  Again and again.

You wake in the night

and a 'you' returns and walks with you through the dark house.

This 'you' has always done that, is there for you,

whatever it is -

to tell you your story without turning on the lights.

Companionship.

Infusions.

Discussing with you, without words,

what dark is, what darker is, what movement,

what space is, what porcelain, how water is, what now is,
what image shivers at the back of the mind.

Reminders of a story of self, life, world, others, dreams.

With others we oblige ourselves

towards anecdotes, then guidelines, then advice, then positions,

then rules, then commandments, then certitude, then wars.

Faith belongs within a self.  It is humble.

It IS humility.  It is the experience of humility.

The experience of gratitude.
The gratitude of experience.

That there are factual reasons for waking, thirsty

does not negate the blessing

of opening one's mouth

of having a mouth to open

and, in the dark, receiving.

Facts and blessings are one and the same.

You and what you are given are one and the same.

You are here and it is miraculous.

No one needs to die for this.