Blind Faith

That warm Sunday morning light
shines through the church windows,
staining the floor, and the pews,
———and your hands
with something that was once God’s,
but is now
———too human
—–to be holy.

It tesseracts like
———a rainbow
across your open palms,
some new form of reverence.

They are reading up at the podium
a passage called Matthew 5:8

—–“blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God”.

It is at this age: 6 years old –
—————–still a young child.
You have just learnt how to tie your own laces
your favourite colour is still pink
your teachers are still calling you gifted; it is at this age that
something shifts
—–out of place.

A spare rib
—–(like Adam’s),
moved while you were sleeping.
Nothing so important that anyone will notice –
at least for a few years…

But when your mother gestures for you to
close your eyes like everybody else and pray,
you close your eyes
and search for God
—————–and you do not see him.

And when you are walking home,
skipping like you usually do,
and you hear the cicadas
buzzing in your ears
like faded violins,

—–you do not hear him either.

Toby Holden
Year 12
Wellington Girls’ College