A man of deep faith, just as a man
without faith, asks nothing of God.
Life itself to such a man
is the unfolding answer to all prayers.
Pain, fright is there – but not anxiety;
loss but not grief;
failure without disappointment;
solitude without loneliness;
death (we are told) without termination.
Perched on the tip of the bow,
a man of faith is serenely poised
to receive, to pass along
only what he’s given; responsible
for nothing but vigilance and acquiescence.
He gets the big picture, the ocean view,
recognizes the nuances, though as yet,
is unable to grasp the details.
Less than a hair’s breadth (the Masters say),
separates heaven from earth –
it requires an unhanding,
an atrophy of judgment,
a relinquishment of presumption.
O child of God, life itself to a man of faithis the unfolding answer to all prayers