Please note: I’ve written two pieces for this prompt. The second was an after-thought.
Faith and Death and Faith
I find Him when I hear the notes of Mozart,
And when a voice can thrill me to the bone;
I find Him in a taste that is exquisite,
Or outside in the yard, beneath a stone.
I find Him in the eye of my adored one,
Whose cheek so soft and tender touches mine;
I find Him in the petals and the branches,
And Sundays in the water and the wine.
I find Him in the grizzle-headed hunched ones,
Who fill up all the seats at Mass each week;
I find Him in the toddlers at Communion,
Who don’t know yet, the Kingdom that we seek.
I fail to see Him in the stone-faced statues,
Or wooden boxes draped with cloth of gold;
And ornate altars, edged with gilded touches,
Cannot arouse an ardour that’s gone cold.
I find Him in the hymns of Middle Ages,
and prayers and lines the Ancients wrote and said,
but since he took my father from my presence,
a part of Him, to me is all but dead.
I’m a hypocrite.
I’ll tell you I’m anti-euthanasia,
but only for the rest of them—
not for me.
If I’m sick with some
do away with me—
let’s get the suffering over,
so we can all go home.
Don’t lie me in a bed,
to shrivel up,
in wailing agony;
cut me loose,
and walk away,
knowing I’m free from it all!
Then incinerate me
and take me to a place
where the birds sing sweet
and the creatures of God
gambol, as they do.
Mix me with the dirt
(take some home with you)
and dust off your hands.
For more participants in TFE’s Poetry Bus, please visit his site: Totalfeckineejit for the links. Thanks.