And Too Love

on faith and love 

I am a work of faith.
Still constantly struggling to believe,
In myself, in my purpose, in a true sense of direction.
At grips with reason, love and finality.

As I sojourn through my valley’s and mountaintops
I know I will pray for both rain and sunshine,
Demand both war and peace,
Expect both mercy and grace.

For in me I see all the chaos my world will bring.
All my indecision and double-mindedness
Reflects not a contradiction nor a division
But this is the nature of things.

Our world is painted in many shades of grey
And the forces at odds with ourself,
Those voices insistent on objectivity,
Still do not know what it is to be human.

It is okay to wrestle with the truth
To find it elusive and ghastly,
Intangible and yet inescapable,
Illuminating while still shrouded in shadow.

For even under the chisel of faith, I am a work of love.
Continuously molded by the labourers of patience
Those whose hands held my own,
and whose hearts lifted my spirits.

And if faith and love can meet
Under the tent of a simple man like me,
That I would be, at some times more than others,
Made to believe in a notion as impossible as forever.

When love demands a knowing
And faith often asks for belief in the unknown.
Then under what sun does truth wear white or black?
It is in the grey room, where I would find faith, and too love.