Loss

L

It’s leaving
Was wistful.
Noticed more
Gone, than in
The going.
Dogma dulled
As doubt’s
Inevitability
Eroded creedal
certainty
Prayers, first
Abbreviated,
Grew silent
Tired of
Echoing words
I do not
Grieve my loss
Gritted memories
Of a more
Gullible time
Yet still, some
Sunday evenings
In the silence
I hear those
Echoes of
Faith’s blind
Certainty, her
Blissful confidence
In the inclusion of
Being the called
Somewhere
On this journey
At some point
I lost my faith,
Yet,
I am not lost
For in the loosing
I have learnt,
To be content in
Uncertain doubt

About the author

badgerslabyrinth

Add Comment

By badgerslabyrinth

Categories