In the Absence of Faith

His voice aged that night as he spoke quietly about the disappointment
and rage
that only a prayer could soften.
Beneath the words that bubbled in his chest
his heart beat
but he did not know what for.
I listened to his anatomy and found god
and wished he would speak instead.
The rise and fall of his chest staggered as he made sentences,
useless articulations that failed to find meaning or peace.
Occasionally I kissed him
when only his tongue clicked against the palate of his mouth
and words began to tumble back into his throat
where they stayed without breath
to push them forward again.
He did not kiss back but I tried to breathe some light in
to sustain his searching.
I held him until he slept, and in the darkness that penetrated only one of us
I prayed.

30 thoughts on “In the Absence of Faith

  1. This piece dug into my 4-Level being . . . . and scooped out a ball of knots that I haven’t been able to begin unravelling for too many years. I believe that everything happens for a reason and in it’s right time. Just wanted you to know that your writing today was a catalyst to someone else’s healing. Mine. The timing, as mystical as it seems, is impeccable. Thank you. ~G

    • Oh wow, I can’t tell you how moved I am by this comment. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. I can’t think of a greater reason to write than for the chance to affect even one person that way. Whether it is mystical or spiritual or coincidence, I’m so glad we connected! Thank you.

      • Thank you Maggie. I left your page and started to write about it all. I don’t know if or when I will say “done,” but when I do, I’ll footnote you, k? Many Blessings. ~G

  2. This totally took my breath away. I read it again and again, and I’m still quite speechless. What a beautiful poem and what a beautiful image you paint with it, I think this has the something, the big wisdom and question of life we search for. Simply precious!
    Thank you for visiting my blog and taking time to comment too, I really appreciate it. Especially as it led me to your beautiful writing. : )

  3. Nice, I understand better than I talk English, but I write a little poetry in French… And philosophy, even books… My English isn’t good enough to write a book… Just basic…

    But I love Pablo Néruda… In Spanish…

  4. This is breathtaking in its spirituality and its sadness. It sends me into zone of deep and sincere introspection.
    I love these lines:

    “I listened to his anatomy and found god
    and wished he would speak instead.”

Let me know you were here. Please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s