The very word divides us into corners, into nations, into groups as stubborn and torn asunder. Reactionaries to a cause and call for arms, but never stopping to ponder the what if...What is faith?

Does faith includes these promises of an old man in rags, or hermaphrodite angels in drag, or 99 virgins waiting w/ wanting arms. 

All call, all yearning for you. Why? Why is this accepted, is it true?

Is it just me in my cynicism and need for something more. For something true. Faith is salve for the soul, but then why does mine still burn and yearn. I awake crying to the memory of a fluorescent babies haunting tune. Don't forget me it says...my inner child begging me not to let it die. 

But does faith allow for such things...inner children and glimpses of borders far beyond our own. The grey matter between sleep and awake. 

Or is it you w/ your complacent heaven and perfect view. Follow the light they say...follow, follow, follow. Be a happy sheep. Be fervent in your belief. We'll see our loved ones returned to us and prosper. Those unfortunate...may God have mercy on their souls. 

As endearing and sweet, a part of me thinks...I'm always thinking...there is no such thing as the perfect view. Why can't we all see the light at the end of the tunnel. (or maybe the darkness in our own personal caves) Why can't we all be. Why all the hiding and prescribing. Let our imaginations guide us as we walk blind. 

I imagined faith in a 100 different ways. Faith for the dying mother w/ lost children gone too soon. Faith for a country lying in ruin. Faith for the hungry yearning for bread. Faith for the gaping emptiness in man. Faith for all of our woes and happiness soon to end. Faith in walking away from home, hoping to return again. Faith for the soldier in arms, faith for our country and cause. 

Faith myriad in its form. Older than all the songs ever chanted, words ever spoken, and dances done. A hope in a presence more powerful and merciful, than ourselves. 

A impression dawns on me; the sunlight on my wintery morning. The blowing of shimmery frosty delight, that slowly freezes with a caress. The world speaking in it's paradoxical way. The faith of a new day. A rosy sheen that colors my daydreams and amplifies my thoughts. 

I imagine closing my eyes and waking from sleeping. 

Dreaming all things anew. 

tried, used to beat myself up dealing with faith issues

then i stopped making it an issue

there's trillions of faiths

mine is simple and ancient and real

and i'm so enthralled with its meaning,

substance to my being

value, nurture, truth, virtue

take a bullet for it

sit in an arena for the entertainment of the masses

if it came to be

mangled, ripped and eaten by lions

or crucified by human gladiators

or humiliated, thumbs down 

by so called caesars

for this faith

so that others might believe

and eternally live

now, in the past or later

human life span is utterly short

(ours is a young sun but millions of years old)

sacrifice my being

for my faith, i'd

take a bullet for,

no death wish, 

just love life

no compromise premised on love

love others, at least try

beyond my ability, 

love humanity

to the best of my ability

on a measure deemed stupid by the world's wise, 

with a love that doesn't, won't, can't, be

impossible to end

such is corinthian love, 

God's love, biblical

such are the matters of my faith

not fantasy, 

not surreal,

not scientific, (though i hold such degrees)

surreal to the world, supernaturally real

more real than reality

all things will pass away, but love will remain

love conquers all

love is all

this is about all, 

is all about what my faith is about

He stopped feeding the strays in the alley behind his house. 

Sun tunneled into shade there,

Leaving food rank before the cats could get to it.

It chafed,

Knowing somehow,

The howling at night

Was partly his fault.

He didn't want to matter that much,

The burden of proof in silent balls of fur

Expired at his door.