Proofs I
Indisputable proof
is not the point -
if we had that
you would have been
consigned to history's
dustbin
to gather dust on some shelf
along with all the other
tomes that tell
of death and war
of light and fire
of cities risen, the fall of
Kings - no
the point is that
we can neither
confirm nor deny
your existence
and your deeds,
your purposes, your presence,
except by
the proofs we hold
as birthright to our hearts:
imprinted seed of poetry
and sight
primed in the bone
before we were born.
We all
die with it inside -
the word ignored
or recognised
speaks volumes for itself.
In truth you are
unfailingly attendant here
patient to our will
to correct our eyes'
analysis
of Divine
dubiety.
previous poem
next poem