Get Your Premium Membership

Below Cathedral Peak

Alone, I camp below Cathedral Peak – 

God, I know you’re not whom we say you are
and you should have a good case for slander –
What fantastic tales we tell about you; 
I wonder if the more nonsensical,
absurdly makes you more believable.  
As the night sky ascends from below
until only the mountain’s white peak glows,
I perpend how you are our double-bind –
Antithetical, yet inevitable;
omnipotent, yet shirking the onus
of sin, disease and immorality.
 
I have back-tracked my last fifty years 
from the convenience of nihilism
and of nullity which once embraced me;
I loved that luxury of arrogance
and conceit to everywhere forswear faith.
Over years, I’ve shed those simple vestments
to now plea the argument’s antipode –
but not Faith.  What emerged is a mountain 
from igneous intrusion and ascend’d
within until it now glows as beacon.

I, a conjoined blind man with elephant 
unable to wrest the entirety,
but these mere three aspects of your being:
I do know of your love; your love of beauty 
and your love of life.  These would and could not
Not otherwise emerge from the darkness 
and the absolute void of space. 
Nullity is too facile and stays so 
unless there’s more – More, for black begets black
and cannot create something from nothing.

One should not grow old without seeing 
that there is something; that an is, Is;
a wisdom and grace that originates.  
It is hard to deny both denial
and a god who cares for prayer, penitence 
and sacrifice.  Here, below Cathedral Peak,
an epiphanic edifice, I see 
god as nurturing and maternal light
acclaiming whatever progress we might.
From such care transcribed, we resolve the angst
of our double-bind and write of new grace
for both child and parent to embrace.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things