Agnostic

We stand

at the intersection

of piety and doubt

 

A dark squall

blows up from the west

and in the east

a blackbird is singing

 

to his mate

hidden somewhere

filtering his music

from sunlight and

dark hooves of rain

 

There are times

when the path disappears

when all you have

is a tiny candle of faith

which trembles

and splutters

like a prayer

in a language you have

not deciphered

 

Overhead

a congregation of geese

with the certainty of innocence

fly northwards

straight as arrows

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© Johnmichael Simon

2014

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