Sunday, October 16, 2005

Sunday Thought: Sceptic

Don't quite know how I came to be,
Or where in life I'm bound to go;
Some say, by God, they've eyes to see,
A vision blessed by a need to know.

But life is good, the glass is full;
The laughing women still dance with me;
Time's merry feast provides no lull
To turn one's eyes toward Galilee

Where the sighted ones begin and end,
And spin their tale of pain and woe,
To which they would my body lend,
Rejoicing in the fatal blow.

They spin their tale of God and friend
Who wept beneath the firmament,
Whose death was not his mortal end
Though pain and woe his body bent.

Where is he now, the promised breath?
Did his footprints not erode -
(Where the body woke from death?) -
When planted on the Emmaus road?

I ask you where, what promise met?
Such as they are, they're yours to keep
In payment of eternal debt,
And tide you well toward wakeless sleep.

Of prophecies I will not hear,
But life as is, the here and now;
Its stage shall never taste my fear;
I'll part the curtain, take my bow.



© 2005




2 Comments:

Good poem Bill. "Did his footprints not erode" is especially evocative.

By Blogger TS, at 9:27 PM, October 16, 2005  

Thanks, TS, friend and fellow poet.

By Blogger William Luse, at 3:59 AM, October 17, 2005  

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