I listen and look
Under the sun’s brass and even
In the moonlight, but I can’t hear
Anything, I can’t see anything-
Not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
Not the leaves…
The leafy fields
Grow taller and thicker-
Green gowns lofting up in the night,
Showered with silk.
And so, every summer
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing-
I am deaf too
To the tick of leaves,
The tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet-
All of it
Beyond all seeable proof, or hearable hum.
And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
And the mystery hidden in dirt
Swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
And tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?
In the leafy green ocean
The honeycomb of the corn’s beautiful body
Is sure to be there.
Faith: Listening even when we can’t hear anything, can’t see anything, can’t feel anything.
Faith: What moves through us in beauty, even when we are afraid.
Faith: That the sun will rise, as will summer’s corn.
What is faith to you?