No room.
In realising
there is no room
for faith,
there is no sharp
blanket of easy belief -
anywhere between Mary
and an eternity of stars.
Marked out by a comet
of contrast, to us.
In the eye explosions of Hubble
space telescope - pictures of an
ungraspable, utterly edgeless
and immensely scaling height
inflame our senses
while robbed of all perspective.
We look into the eyes
of our universe, like a baby
preprogrammed to recognise
the features of our parent's faces.
We must shake -
to our very core, and reject all
given lore - to allow a glimpse
at a more realistic truth
that probably has nothing to
do with us - to catastrophically
shatter all illusions, mindlessly smear
our delusions, out of all direction -
but up there
the wind of seeds, blows
in all directions, at once with none
and thunder passes, across echoes
of life given chances.
To see, unbelievable nature -
without nurture
without us - realising.
There is no more room
for faith.
by Gareth Rosser |