By the time you were Six,
Your mother told you,
those few stories…
What about the knowledge you held,
to be true? All your youthful learnings.
All those dusty books with self-confident learned words,
What happened when modernity
stepped into your life?
You found your faith unable to cope
With the fear.
That this century has provided.
And yet you know His name.
His name which echoes in different languages
Everyone knows Him.
What about I?
My mother told me no stories!
What little I learned, I gleaned from Grandmama.
With her rituals and how she taught me.
She would tell me that I would be protected by Guan Yin.
When I prayed for good results, for safe passage.
And I’ve got that. I’ve got all that.
Did I really believe in Her?
A part of me would shout out yes.
But only to be drowned again by the learned men, the white suits, the pocket protectors.
How does one lose his faith.
If he never had one in the first place.
Did I ever have faith?
Faith in science? – Bullcrud.
That’s a load of crap. Its everchanging state, its points and counterpoints, its constant need to evolve and better itself.
How can one have faith in that? That which inspires so little faith, that even its own scientists try to disprove themselves.
But to believe… To truly believe. I can’t do that!
I just can’t! I need proof.
Not want. Not desire.
I have nothing to feel faith for/towards/onto.
How I wish I could taste them all,
Just a sample then… A taste of faith. Without the whole need to devote
Mind Body Soul.