"Scepticism is the beginning of faith."
- Oscar Wilde
But what I have come to believe in some way,
Some possible grace. But still some part of it
Is here in this empty cathedral where light
Is shimmering on saints whose dreary lives
Ended badly and were never these colors . . .
The great apse of air aspiring to a Heaven,
Though in need of stone columns to support
The promise that everyone will be risen . . .
And rows of candles in tiers like a choir,
Their red robes fluttering, barely guttering,
The sad dying prayers of love and loss . . .
Perhaps I have brought the silence of my own
To listen for the redeeming scriptured answers
I was taught before ever knowing the questions.
Instead, here and now, I remember how once
A priest heard me staring from the back of
An empty church, turned and opened his arms.
Whether in blessing or despair I still don't know.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 363 times
Written on 2010-12-03 at 14:21
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- Oscar Wilde
Ex Cathedra
Here is not of my faith, mine having no nameBut what I have come to believe in some way,
Some possible grace. But still some part of it
Is here in this empty cathedral where light
Is shimmering on saints whose dreary lives
Ended badly and were never these colors . . .
The great apse of air aspiring to a Heaven,
Though in need of stone columns to support
The promise that everyone will be risen . . .
And rows of candles in tiers like a choir,
Their red robes fluttering, barely guttering,
The sad dying prayers of love and loss . . .
Perhaps I have brought the silence of my own
To listen for the redeeming scriptured answers
I was taught before ever knowing the questions.
Instead, here and now, I remember how once
A priest heard me staring from the back of
An empty church, turned and opened his arms.
Whether in blessing or despair I still don't know.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 363 times
Written on 2010-12-03 at 14:21
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
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