Faith Or Love (Age 15)

As an agnostic (one who does not necessarily say god does not exist, but is not willing to believe without evidence), I am always wondering how I will raise my children if I have them. This is a poem pondering these thoughts.

On Sunday mornings at twelve, my father took me there. At this time in my adolescence, not for me to have a care, No present care of the people who had already made their choice, Pleasantly sure of their life set in stone by the black-clad man's voice. Reading from a passage, sure to speak strongly of faith or love, Offering signs of blessing, signs of peace, the sign of a white dove, And with such an ease like the flight of the dandelions in a strong gale, Began drawing them into the light, pure, simple, true, like a ship long sailed. Now I wonder how was I to know what it should have meant for me, On those cloudy mornings, as the congregation bowed to its knees, Unbeknownst to me of how faith or love would hold the key, My father sitting humbly in his seat by the back, as I observe, Through all the citations and declarations and orchestral verve, Whether it would be my family love or faith to which I swerve.

Reviews

[Brandee D. Hack]

The only thing I could think to say, is how beautiful this is. You have such beautiful visuals here. I enjoyed the rhyming scheme allot. The scheme is always a nice texture to what you are trying to say - even if there is no writing scheme at all.

And I am sure that when the time comes, you're kids will be lucky to have an understanding poet as a father. You will know what to when the time comes. Just let them make their choice. Talk it over with your lover and wife. It will all makes sense. :)