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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
© Johnmichael Simon
2014
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