Saturday, June 19, 2010

Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith

Every summer

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…

And still

Every day,

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?

One morning

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?

No comments:

Post a Comment