Sonnet: Faith

My Lord, what is this folly, curse or prize
That Thou hast given to this child of Thine;
Perhaps, an answer to a prayer of mine;
Perhaps, an irony which satisfies

My very heart? Yet should I emphasize
The very art–particularly fine–
With which I am denied that sweetest wine:
That wish come true? If Thou wert truly wise,

Or simply knew what works of Thine were done,
I cannot but believe that gift would be
A sweetly kind and patronizing one;
Demanding nothing very real from me.
Considering the works I’ve done for Thee,
Couldst not Thou simply deign to set me free?

Advertisements

Sonnet: His Birth

I celebrate with all today His birth,
And pray throughout these hours with those I love.
Myself, as humbled giving thanks, I feel,
Although He floateth not, I fear, above.

And true, I more am thankful of my worth;
For know such warmth as loved ones for me pray,
And bid Him all our spirits, pray, to heal,
Especially upon this Holy day.

Ye wretched, leave us pray for peace on Earth,
And contemplate your mirror’s twisted view,
Then hope, and change, or enmity conceal;
Be thankful that my loved ones pray for you.

For though I yet believe no God to be,
So also do I not believe in ye.

Permalink

Intro: Safety

I do not believe
But I celebrate and pray.
Loved ones pray for me.

Perhaps if I pray,
And someone is listening,
It will save my soul.

Probably, it won’t
Unless I believe in Him
And He’s really there

Perhaps, if I pray,
God will then reveal Himself.
Then I could believe.

It would be so grand.
If I knew He would take me.
To all my loved ones.

One friend has told me.
That because I once believed,
That still I am saved.

It feels like cheating.
But he insists it is not.
He says God loves me.

That’s what my name means
In the language of Moses:
“Beloved of God”

Once, I loved him back.
That feeling has never changed.
Though faith has withered.

Infinitesimal
The size of a mustard seed,
That can move mountains.

That’s what my friend says.
That’s reason enough to pray.
So I still do it.

Silent. On my own.
Sometimes I pray with loved ones.
It never hurt me.

It makes me happy.
When I do, I feel better.
Nothing’s wrong with that.

Pray with your loved ones;
It will make you feel better;
And won’t hurt at all.

Permalink

Sonnet: Grace

So did He come, or was He born, this day?
And verily, amazing then was He;
As all such told events involving Him?
This world he touched, were still it plain to see?

What kind of wisdom did He teach or say?
Were such He taught for all of us to hear?
And was it truly more than just a whim?
And is He, when I speak to Him, as near?

And what may any tell me of His way?
And how doth anybody truly know?
And was His story equally as grim;
Horrific as its end, at first, would show?

What chapter did betrayal then begin?
Is true, the hymn, He washeth us of sin?

Permalink

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.

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.