Next to me on the train
the lady with her Bible was studiously
reading the Word.
Working to unlock the wisdom from some 3000 years ago,
she plunged from the Bible schoolbook
back to the Scripture checking and
rechecking the references
to peoples and places long ago gone.
Faith is a transient thing
as immeasurable as a feeling,
as fleeting as misplaced emotions.
Little betrayals, larger losses, or
lesser deaths
are awash amid
comfort and joy,
inconsolable sorrows
and the grinding pain
of heartache and remorse.
I want to reach out to touch her hand
and let flow into me
some infinitesimal measured
part of her faith,
let it flow through me and
wash my soul into stillness,
into peaceful trust
in some
word,
some message from somewhere
to find again all that is
misplaced.
3/13/97