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It is not invisible, but lost like a forest for the trees.
By Billy | August 26, 2011
This poem is a constant work in Progress. Which is hilarious because it is about an obscure flavor of Christianity called Process Theology. As such, these words constantly work to reflect an asymptotically and therefore eternally refining theory of eschatology, metaphysics, ontology, and most importantly me. It’s called, “It is not invisible, but lost like a forest for the trees.”
When I was a child
I thought like a child
I reasoned and spoke
As I’d been taught
As a child.
I thought mountains were mountains.
And trees were just trees.
I thought prayer was a thing that you did on your knees.
I thought faith was that thing when you heard then believed
I thought God was a thing on a cloud you can’t see.
I thought death was a monster
And life was a curse
I thought both could be conquered if I found the right verse.
I believed in a God of anger and wrath,
I thought I could lose him if I strayed from some path.
I believed in a clockmaker; distant and cool.
Who came round to wind us, or made us his tool.
I believed that grace could be earned and revoked,
And that God could be goaded or teased or provoked.
And I was afraid of mistakes I had made,
And I feared for my soul and my hopes all decayed.
And I lost the glimmer of light that I saw
I gave up my reason and abandoned my law.
In The Dark Night where there is No Soul
There is no God, just an empty Whole.
I learned there are corners and depths so deep
That only darkness and evil can creep.
And somewhere in that darkened stillness
Attacking like a violent illness
I, like my hopes and my God and my reasons,
Came apart and together, and I cycled like seasons.
And God created light. And from that light he made darkness.
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