Saturday, March 26, 2016

Faith


Do you know what it is to yield, to be grateful for the many or few of your possessions without being possessed by them, without being possessed at all, without being mad or angry or outraged, without the need or desire to control, without the need to be right, or the need to be wrong, or ugly, or beautiful, or happy, or sad, or to identity with your self-designed load? You smile. I bow —

and,

Just as the flower
was confessing its faith
to the bee, it was claimed
by a gardener’s shear.

“How lovely.”

(This little poem, “Faith,” is part of my Songs and Letters, and was written July 10, 2008. The question leading up to it, your imagined reaction, and then mine — well, I feel like a flower this morning, that’s all, a flower willing to bloom, or go.)



2 comments:

Gary B. Fitzgerald said...

Okay...I'll see that and raise you one.


Faith

Put your faith in Nature,
in the sea and stars and the magic
of the mind.
Put your faith in being,
in particles and thunderstorms
and time.
Put your faith in living,
how you always seem to
somehow stumble through.
Put your faith in you.
God did.

Copyright 2008 – HARDWOOD: 77 Poems, Gary B. Fitzgerald

William Michaelian said...

Another flower for the garden. And I do love the idea of using an extraordinary pack of cards, on the faces of which are poems.