Arkell's Ark: Behind The Door
"I'm an atheist, with flashes of agnosticism and periodic doubts about my disbelief. So my writing in this regard is sometimes paradoxical,'' writes Ian Arkell by way of introduction to this profound poem.
A rosary hangs
behind the door
under a coat
a doubt, a cloud,
sometimes out of sight
but
always there
life’s a contradiction
full of fears, confusions
arguments and loss,
a simple faith?
there’s no such thing
it’s difficult
at least for me
to reconcile the why, the how,
the conflict, yet
in sudden
cautious moments
I think I understand,
rationality aside
brilliant yet disappointing moments,
full of promises and wonder, yet
as always
a partially opened door,
is faith just another form of doubt,
or it something else?
or is there beauty
in acceptance,
blind or otherwise,
should it come by reason’s path
evidence prevailing, or
is there daily revelation,
wrapped in simple guise?
do we complicate
the beautiful idea that
love is all and that
we should care for one another,
as travellers
on a wondrous trip?
have we forgotten that people
matter more than things, that
attachment causes pain, too tied up
in organised belief
to see the truth,
blind to the beauty
of simplicity
my rosary hangs behind the door
and reminds me of the gentlest
purest thought of all,
sometimes out of sight,
oft times forgotten
but always there.
