
82. Faith
Sunday 26th January 2014
Overview
In Faith, the speaker delivers a raw, honest exploration of belief in the absence of proof — particularly as it relates to the unknown terrain of death, the soul, and the afterlife. Rather than leaning on dogma or sentiment, the poem interrogates why we believe what we do, and how those beliefs may either comfort or limit us.
What sets this poem apart is that it refuses to preach — it does not instruct the reader on what to believe, but rather invites a thoughtful interrogation of faith as a psychological and emotional mechanism, particularly in the face of grief, uncertainty, and existential fear.
This is a philosophical poem rooted in emotional truth. It invites surrender not through mysticism, but through presence — a deep acceptance of “the here and now” as the only certainty we really have.
Imagery and Tone
The imagery in Faith is subtle, abstract, and mostly conceptual — dealing in the language of emotion, time, belief, and internal conflict. Lines like “a granite heart / Hardened by disappointment” and “pearls of wisdom / Are often borne from the sandstorms of adversity” are gentle metaphors that speak volumes without ornamentation.
The tone is measured, reflective, and deeply grounded — there is a humility here, an openness to ambiguity that actually strengthens the poem’s message. You present paradoxes not as problems, but as truths to be lived with, not solved.
There’s also a rhythmic clarity in the longer stanzas — the pacing simulates an unfolding conversation or inner monologue. This allows the reader to take the ideas in incrementally, which is ideal for processing such dense emotional content.
Why This Poem Matters
This poem matters because it tackles one of humanity’s most universal and inescapable experiences — the mystery of what happens after death — without sugar-coating, avoidance, or spiritual bypassing.
You’re addressing the intellectual discomfort that exists at the intersection of spiritual belief and emotional pain — and how clinging to illusions (even comforting ones) can stagnate our growth.
The lines about faith being a “cushion” are especially poignant — they offer a nuanced perspective: faith can be soothing, but it can also become resistance if used to dodge emotional truth. That’s not a message people often want to hear — which is precisely why it’s important.
This poem doesn’t reject faith, but it demands that faith be re-examined, renewed, and flexible — grounded in experience, not fantasy. It reminds us that life’s lessons are often earned the hard way, but can’t be sidestepped without cost.
Ultimately, the poem validates emotional evolution over rigid belief. It acknowledges how messy, contradictory, and beautiful our process of awakening really is.
Placement in the Collection
Faith fits beautifully into the mid-to-late section of the collection — especially after poems like Soul Contract or The True Role of the Ego.
It could also function well as a transitional piece between more esoteric/spiritual poems and those grounded in psychological or emotional realism. Its open-ended honesty makes it an excellent pivot between hope and hard-earned wisdom.
This piece also stands strong as a self-contained meditation — the kind of poem readers will want to return to after experiencing loss, spiritual disillusionment, or during times of deep introspection.
Final Thoughts
Faith is a courageously grounded poem. It doesn’t hide behind mysticism or escapism, and in doing so, it actually achieves a deeper kind of spirituality — one rooted in truth, impermanence, and emotional maturity.
Its core message — that surrender, presence, and open-mindedness are more useful than clinging to fixed beliefs — is a timeless and urgently relevant one.
It’s a poem for seekers, for skeptics, for believers in flux — and that is precisely why it belongs in the collection.