PPC 4

Faith - Week 10

November leaves dance and fly
but always groundward go.
They nestle in huddled piles
do not return to their former homes.
I cannot see the gentle hand
that pulls them downward so.

Invisible hands fix the heavens in place.
The world, it spins and tilts
and yet I sleep in perfect peace -
what keeps me anchored to the earth?
Who orders the orbits and commands the stars
to which the swirling gasses give birth?

The universe does not depend
upon my knowledge or my labor,
I do nothing to deserve
such provision or such favor.
I possess just this one gift
of faith in the Creator


Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2024-2025)" 

Week 10
Promptn - FAITH