I have seen both angels and demons
I have blessed and cursed the gilt cross,
(and borne the guilt of that loss),
of that symbol at the top
of the steeple.
I have witnessed the whispers of a faith so broken
that I could have sworn
the candle had gone out…
blasphemies unspoken, extinguished, forlorn,
doused by doubt.
Then flickering, then flaring to life
Hesitant to blindly leap
through Hope’s open door,
(it is a tale of patient observation).
To define the schism of a soul;
that of wanting to believe,
but in fear
of giving up
the color of the hottest flame
Cast aside your fear
the life you’re in!
(And your unique place in it).
Black, white, the infinite shades of grey,
all linger and swirl in the inner world,
with faith as an empty, clean, blank slate,
despite differences in how we pray,
there is only One
and we are all connected.
As for Faith…
it can continually die and be
What I know
The Universe will continue,
whether we believe in it or not.
~ © 2016 Corina Ravenscraft