BitterSweetLife

The words "I believe" are in themselves a paradox.

It’s been observed (recently by Paula) that belief in a purely material world requires faith just as surely as belief in a supernatural one. In fact, most every philosopher, theologian, or evolutionists—systematic thinkers of all persuasions—articulate this conclusion at one time or another.

The poem below is an act of recognition (perhaps an overly simple one)—an attempt to acknowledge the above fact: To trust in matter or to worship God each require belief. Worship sex or trust a savior—both take "unverifiable" trust, not in spite of the facts, but in light of our imperfect ability to apprehend them.

For my part, I deliberately assert the authority of the unseen spiritual over and against the weight of the tactile visible. By the same token, atheists and materialists must vie with the credence of the intangible. I have, of course, material reasons for my choice. But the corpus of evidence leads only to the brink of belief—and there it (or, if you will, our intellectual grip) falls away.

Therefore, my poem not an explanation of conviction, much less a statement of “blind” belief. Rather, it's an expression of divinely triggered faith-intention. A casting of the vote on the side of the supernatural. (We all cast our votes one day.)

::

Spirit Over Sand

I saw a rock wall
A wall of granite grey
Without a growing thing—
And I believed you could do it.

I saw a sheer sky
A page of canvas brown
Without a beating wing—
And I believed you could do it.

I saw a sand waste
A world of desert red
Without a flowing spring—
And I believed you could do it.

I lived a fool’s life
A search for future’s blue
Without a mortal king—
And I believed you could do it.
I believed you could do it.