Truth

 

The burden lifted long ago

the childish wondering how and why so much suffering

because faith belief God’s love etc.

Long ago (the piles of bodies

clambering for the last pocket of rank air

the faces smiling

as they dragged mothers and their children through horrors)

long ago (and tomorrow too

despite the candles and beatitudes

and the smug well, just believe and be saved)

long ago I opened eyes and saw the truth

incontrovertible, unassailable

unshakeable as mother-love.

Stars and meadows roll

and birds bring fledglings to flight

kits and cubs from blind to crafty world-wise

and we are what we are

ourselves alone

the hand that holds the knife the gun the whip the pen is sovereign.

No hiding in the celestial light

or praying for celestial rain to cleanse

this world is

this earth

this life

beating.

Bring your eyes from the clouds and that ever-receding pie

and count the dead and dying.

What matters is.

What is

is this bird

this child

this future.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

14 thoughts on “Truth”

    1. I believe that what we have is far more beautiful and precious than some specious person dying two thousand years ago or some even more specious father figure (NOT my idea of a father). We have real love and beauty right under our noses. Look in any sparrow’s nest.

      1. You’re right. In the last few days had an altercation with one who tried hiding behind his Jesus, in the form of a pretty baby, so I showed him an artwork by a local artist, Wim Botha of Jesus crucified, a sculpture made from Bibles. Doubt we’ll ever talk ever again.

      2. The pretty baby Jesus brigade are almost always the exterminate women who want an abortion brigade. Lugubrious dead Jesuses are what turned the pagans off to begin with. Who needs a dead God?

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