Faith

Faith moves mountains,
They say.

Faith moved me
To be a disbeliever.

Don’t get me wrong.
I wish I could kneel
And look up and say,
I know you have my back;
I could say,
Oh, you know best;
There will be something better,
That there is
A larger plan.

But my children died.
And all I asked was for less suffering.
A little lesser than the last.
Until with the last there was nothing left.

I asked when I believed.
Now I know the blankness.
And the silence.

I’ve seen religion and ritual
Twist me into softness:
Into believing there is law,
There will be justice.
But
There isn’t.
There is silence and sacrifice.

So I choose to turn away
From a fait accompli.

I’m uncertain.
That makes me stronger.
Less kinder.
But if I have given up on
Divinity
Being kind is an anticlimax.

The Trend.

I watched the waves.
They crashed into the rocks.
A done-to-death metaphor.

I saw the foam stick.
I saw the spray hit the air.
While you slept.
Blissful.
The trend of all lovers.
Once the passion is dead.

The sea will recede.
The rocks at least have faith.
The sea will return.

I walk back home.
To my side of the bed.
Sleepless and faithless.

Death

I can't breathe.
I try hard,
But I fail.
I follow
All the rules;
I still lose.
I am free;
But in life.
In all love,
I am caught.
Wrestling hard,
Against pain
And sorrow.
People see
Just the smile
And the love;
But the tears
The tears, tears,
Are all lost,
In silence.
No one sees
(Or chooses
To see) them.
I shudder
To wonder:
If all life
Is this way…
Or maybe,
Some morning
Will bring peace
With the love,
And all life
Will quiet.
But I think
That then is
Death.