MUCH THE SAME

Belief is like sensations of a breeze
goose-flesh finger tips on our skin

Faith is listening to it roar
yet naught to see from where it cries

nor with ours eyes direct complaint
or worry, both are much the same

twice the invisible evidence
a presence not present but one can elude

there is something more, there, somewhere
out in the wide-yet-to -be-known

So goes the whisper passing me
and attend my eyes to watch that gust

of wind as witness upon a tree
rustling shaken / limbs creaking / bows

as its old leaves brittle to let go
where they crunch under our giants' toes

Its clear to me, although unseen, there
are much greater things beyond

believe have faith it is absolute like rain
the truth of everything is much too much

to lose one's mind to fear
let the sky fall gently April tears

I will drink of it
much the same, believe me / have  a little
faith...