God save us.
I'm losing faith, and I'm losing it quick.
As if this existence were a swift river and faith - merely an indistinguishable pebble tossed about within it. As if my hands were too small, too frail to clutch it. Too weak and too cold to hold it should I happen upon it in my desperate flailing downstream, caught up within this undeterable current. As if the rapids only pause long enough to give imaginary relief, so our feeble eyes might once again spot faith somewhere in our midst. As if this river were made to carry me further out to the unknown, farther out away from land. Land made up of stone upon stone of the very faith we are chasing in this river. As if we all can reside only in the water that is pulling our heads under.
Can this pattern have a true and beautiful form? Can this river do more than drown?
Or, shall we learn to breathe beneathe it and escape this temporal hold upon us?
I fear any answer would be too formidable to approach, and so I shy. I stray. I flounder about in water I can not reach bottom in. I strain and I gasp at air I only hope I will reach. I sink and spin and accidentally find the surface again.
Something must be watching me, must be showing me - for I have not died yet.
As if this existence were a swift river and faith - merely an indistinguishable pebble tossed about within it. As if my hands were too small, too frail to clutch it. Too weak and too cold to hold it should I happen upon it in my desperate flailing downstream, caught up within this undeterable current. As if the rapids only pause long enough to give imaginary relief, so our feeble eyes might once again spot faith somewhere in our midst. As if this river were made to carry me further out to the unknown, farther out away from land. Land made up of stone upon stone of the very faith we are chasing in this river. As if we all can reside only in the water that is pulling our heads under.
Can this pattern have a true and beautiful form? Can this river do more than drown?
Or, shall we learn to breathe beneathe it and escape this temporal hold upon us?
I fear any answer would be too formidable to approach, and so I shy. I stray. I flounder about in water I can not reach bottom in. I strain and I gasp at air I only hope I will reach. I sink and spin and accidentally find the surface again.
Something must be watching me, must be showing me - for I have not died yet.
2 Thought(s):
...and before you swim you've gotta be okay to sink.
Well put.
Thank you.
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