Sonnet: No Faith

Can now, I truly see the Holy Ghost?
Believing yet in nothing, not the Son,
And not the Father, nor the fallen one;
With only a desire to play as host

To a belief which, at its very most,
Do I admire to adopt–and shun
All else; for now, I see the truth, and run
To-ward a stark, inevitable, coast;

A coast whose beaches speak a Holy Truth;
Though that alone is not why I so care.
It is a great utility of youth;
Yet pains me that it cannot be a tool
Whose faith will serve me, if indeed ’tis there,
Unless a man accept it, as a rule.

Advertisements

Intro: Faith

it’s funny
how faith
ebbs and flows in me

right now
it is at low tide

God does not exist
nor spirit
nor afterlife

nothing

the only thing
that seems to be
beyond myself
is my love for you,
and your love for me

and that lives
only in you
and in me

We will die
no one will ever know
how irreplaceable it was

it will just be gone.

Sonnet: Busy

Can I look, can I listen, can I speak?
Can I stop, can I walk, or can I run?
Can I fetch, can I put, or am I done?
Can I drop, can I gather, may I seek?

Will I lead, will I later, will I sneak?
Will I first, will I last, or will I shun?
Will I few, will I lots, or have I none?
Will I feed, will I wallow, am I bleak?

Must I find, must I forfeit, must I do?
Must I know, must I guess, or must I now?
Must I brave, must I cower, should I bow?
Must I glow, must I grimace, am I blue?

If I may, am I dower, did I stray?
Can I pray, for more hours, in the day?

Permalink

Sonnet VII: Lotus

I lid mine eyes, yet not in sleep, but wake;
Not hid to prize the darkness, nor to see;
Nor magnify some other sense; nor be
Bereft of beauty; nor once more forsake

The heft of duty, as a way to break
The thrall of such cacophonous debris.
Nor shall so thin a veil set me free
From youthful ties, nor hail its mistake,

Nor truth, nor lies, but merely grant repose;
Which waking purpose, clearly, I’m inclined
To take, whenever I may know such throws
Of agony or bliss. And when I find
Such irony as this, I then expose
Myself, to all the wealth, in all my mind.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: