Sifting

Faith, indeed, is all the reform that is needed; it is itself a reform. - Thoreau

Like a bohemian brat, I kick and scream.

In a premonition of epiphany's dream.

An unacceptable discord.

A parachute with no ripcord.

No do-overs.

Why?

Why?

To live is to die.

To feel is to cry.

The tears have long since run dry.

Lips parched from unanswered prayers.

Hands sore from wringing regret.

Bible pages worn by thumbing for mercy.

I've spoken with the wind, moon, ocean, trees, squirrels, clouds and everything in between.

Even pled my case with the rain.

Drenched with undying pain.

Now I sit in tomorrow's ashes and yesterday's dirt.

Trying to let go of the hurt.

Sifting for meaning.

Remnants of hope slipping through my fingers.

Like a sluice box for Heaven's gold.

Or so I'm told.

He rested on the seventh.

Don't know what he did on the eighth.

All that's left is to clutch genuine ...

... faith ...

Author's Note

"That we have but little faith is not sad, but that we have little faithfulness. By faithfulness faith is earned." - Thoreau