"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Questions Holding Hands

I stood inside my doubt,
questions holding hands
dancing in a circle around me.

Theology beat its tambourine,
I am the true faith,
salvation comes
in the manner I profess.

The word is infallible,
but didn’t man wield the pen?
May I read what fell
on the editor’s floor?

My steps don’t feel right
on the path you say
I must walk.
Am I not free
to choose my own way?

A god of wrath sent love,
a divine oxymoron.
Am I to fear eternal judgment
when I already feel condemned?

© Copyright Susie Clevenger 2011
dVerse Open Link Night ~ Week 33
dVerse ~ Poets Pub


Brian Miller said...

this is def the conundrum of the almighty...and the way man has twisted theology so that it meets his needs as opposed to...yeah dont get me started on this one...i used to be a pastor ...hehe

Brian Miller said...

i will say doubt and questions are not to be feared or condemned...see i cant stop myself...smiles.

Steve King said...

You capture one of the great conflicts very dramatically--and in so few words. I enjoyed reading this. The cutting room floor note was excellent.

ayala said...

I stood inside my doubt ... Love that line.. I think all of us stand there one time or another. Nice capture!

Charles Miller said...

You've identified such penetrating disconnects going on the religious sphere. Great questions that indicate that you come at the questions with openness.

zongrik said...

i actually find the last stanza rather funny, in an ironic sort of way

Ginny Brannan said...

Stanza 3 did it for me:
"The word is infallible,
but didn’t man wield the pen?
May I read what fell
on the editor’s floor?"

Oh yes. All I have read states that a meeting of minds (men's) came together to decide what to keep, what to toss. I, too, would like to read what fell on the editor's floor. I do not do "mysteries" well; too many questions, not enough answers. I'm always torn between respecting and admiring those whose faith has no questions, and my own stubborn adamance about following blindly rules that "men" have written. Good old "catholic-raised" guilt, the gift that keeps on giving. Divine oxymoron indeed.

Natasha Head said...

Susie! You ask some weighty questions in this piece, calling to question my own faith...if only we could pen the answers and perhaps bring some peace to the questioning...really enjoyed this one!

Ed Pilolla said...

yes, the editor's floor is right. i also like the sense of dichotomy. i agree with brian about the value and treatment of doubts and questions. people don't pay money for doubts and questions:) mysteries are mysteries.

Beth Winter said...

The first stanza grabbed me. What are we if we are not our doubts. Wonderful depth.

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