as one door closes, another...

 

as one door closes, another...

 

 

 

 

sat in an old church with archaic windows

and thought about soul,

what exactly is it?

where is mine at the moment---

 

stone faced statues stared silently from altars of gold

a slight light shone upon them

but i remained in shadows

 

conflicted, afflicted with doubt

is what i am looking for in here?

within the confines of brick and mortar

within these wooden pews and kneel down philosophy

browsing old hymnals with much older songs

sung now in the back of memory

 

my words remained unsaid

they formed in confusing prayer

i tried to understand something taught to me

from First Communion through years of sovereign reminders

 

through public outcry

against the very saintly vocation

and irrevocable intrusions to the standard 

set and disposed of, 

by strayed shepherds of example

 

sat in an old church with archaic windows

saw artistry on the pane

saw pain in the artistry

heard pain in the echoes

as i sat there wondering where

and why it all went...

 

got up and took one last genuflect 

then another last reflection

 

and walked out into the wistful wisdom

of life, 

the real one that comes with years

of finding out the truth

that comes with an understanding---

 

of losing something we leaned upon

for so many years---

that with age

becomes artistry less and less visible

 

to the eyes of the soul.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

5/8/16

Reviews

[mou]

Yes, to define what the soul exactly, is the most difficult thing.
A very thought provoking piece, I like it .
Thanks for sharing the excellent writing ..

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, mou,

j.

[Terpsichore]

Indeed it is that bricks and mortar are simply add on engineering. For me, it is the last two stanzas that speak of what really matters.

T

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, T.
j.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

This speaks to me of so many things.
When we find that many of the things we were taught, or we had accepted fall short...
when those we looked up to fall or we find that they were fallen all along...
When things that once meant so much, form a box around us...
all can cause a faith crisis.
There are cherished memories that I hold of a way that no longer works as it was. In living through the struggles and questioning in my life, what I was taught has blossomed and is now so much bigger and more powerful and alive. This may seem a bit cryptic, perhaps you will understand. I really loved this.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

yes, i can surely understand...and i appreciate your words, Claire...

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

Love the deep ness evoked in each word. A solemn echo reverberating through me, through the ages, your priestly voice calling us to kneel and reflect with you.

You have stepped out the normal and we appreciate your offering of church.

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words...yes, so many questions, always.

j.

[Vatsal Rohilla (account..]

"saw artistry on the pane saw pain in the artistry"- Very deep and powerful lines.
Our soul is always there. The fact is that what we think we are is not true. We are not this body. We are souls. Each soul is a fragment of the ultimate power called God. This body is just a medium for working- soul cannot do things on its own, it needs a body- and work is worship. See every other living organism as a fragment of God, see yourself as a fragment of God and you will find the veracity, the truth of life.
This is a very philosophical piece of poetry. Moved me quite a lot.
Well-written, sir. Keep writing.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your very kind review, Vatsal.
j.

[iand63]

Wistful wisdom of life, what a delightful phrase one that benefits repetition quietly like humming a tune as you go about your day, contemplating all that you are experiencing with immediacy and without resistance. Allowing the flow of life and consciousness to move around and through you, taking you where it will.

Wonderful journeying piece Mr J, meditative and challenging.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, ian.

j.

[redzone]

Jacob, one of the best things about your writing and poetry, is that you not only allow for, but encourage the reader to think, to go in many directions as they read, even sometimes like me way beyond what you may have intended when your pen hit the paper... to me this is at least in part what art is all about.

I gave up believing in the myths and fairy tales of god a long time ago, but for many years did see similar stained glass pains and still appreciate the art of them, their construction and colors and even the way they make you feel about all the suffering in the world... there is a reason why the church has very high ceilings, to make you feel small and insignificant, to make you think you cant really do anything about that pain and suffering, it is all up to something else (a man made god)... but there really is truth and we live in a real world and what we think and do matters, it matters a great deal... Why is it we have come to understand that in reality the earth revolves around the sun and yet when it comes to the question of god we are either faithful, or faithless or agnostic?? truth and reality are the same for all of us.. there is not 6 billion different realities for each individual that inhabits this planet, it is the same for all of us... god either exists or not, in the same way that the earth is either flat or not... the reality is the same for all of us... people may believe anything they want to but I guarantee every one will not allow their child to just run into the street because his/her reality is different than yours... all of a sudden you accept that there is a real world with real consequences in the actions we take or dont take... do we really just let this child run into the street and act the way we stupidly talk, "it's in gods hands"??? or do we deny this and reach out and stop the child from doing this?? cause if the reality of our world proved the existence of god then the life and death of that child would really be in gods hands wouldn't it... but no amount of art, even art that inspires us and expresses our deepest pain and hardships is proof of god, rather it proves that we humans have a lot to do to change all this pain and suffering. And here is something else to ponder, if we do not act to end this and find out how to end this pain and suffering, then we will become accomplices in this pain and suffering.

I realize Jacob you wrote this for different reasons than what I am talking about.. it's more that your poem has allowed me to think and these are some of the thoughts that emerged from my brain in reading... all wisdom comes from experiences in coming to understand the world around us, either through direct and personal experience or indirect (main way it comes) through the experiences of others, through books, poetry, history, etc.. and our life begins, not as an attachment inside the womb, but as a separate individual when we leave... it's called a birthday and we celebrate it every year since.

Thanks Jacob, for writing poetry that encourages thinking...

redzone

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like and appreciate where you too this, Curt....thank you for sharing how you relate...
read morei like and appreciate where you too this, Curt....thank you for sharing how you relate...

j.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i meant, where you took this.

[W.k.kortas]

"(S)tone faced statues stared silently..." Man, that's fine stuff. The interplay of the tangible and intangible, those things that exist in brick-and-mortar and those that are only in the mind, is handled with deftness and aplomb herein. Fine stuff, even by your standards.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, W.k.

j.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Jacob, stained glass windows stir my soul.
A child told me, "A Saint is someone whom the
light shines through". Albeit quaint, I still believe.
Your poem is a quiet reflection of memories and
one of my favorites. truly, Pat

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind words, Pat.

j.

[Crimson_ish]

One could read millions of text, rediscovery all the graceful arts, and be rectified by an enlightened soul, but what intimate experiences evokes within us will always stand taller, brighter. and sharper than every claim we've every acquired through generations of communication. Self-discovery is not a product but in fact a transition of life, which we flow in by being perhaps more "self-centric" with a renewed focus on our feelings, and consciousness, facing our terrors. This is what I learned from this wonderful, reflective poem, a thoughtful read :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I appreciate your insightful words, and kind review. Crimson_ish...

j.