08-28-2024, 03:35 PM
The Sisters
Love is us in the light,
Faith is us in the dark,
Hope is their little sister, shadow.
Light pervades, it is cast on everything.
Darkness is borne of knowledge, awareness of the unseen and ignorance.
Then comes the interplay between what we would desire, and what is.
Love is the source-fuel of spirit,
It is the stream in which we swim. It is the air we breathe.
Rejecting love requires a thing to displace it.
No void of love is without a source.
Faith is where we can prosper, navigating all that we can see.
Moving along the stream boldly, wisely relying on what 'ought to be' to avoid cataclysm.
So essentially pervasive is faith, that it engenders itself, without prompting, without hiding.
Faith is most often taken for granted in a world where words are playthings.
Hope is our agency.
Although often rejected, often diminished, it too persists endlessly undaunted.
She dances, flittering about like a pretty butterfly in the light.
We have choices in hope, but no certainty... faith is seen ever-presented with hope.
[author's note]
I really don't know if this is making any sense to anyone other than me...
Too obtuse, too pretentious?... I doubt anyone in my real life would even entertain this...
But you guys are often kinder, so I offer it humbly for your potential amusement.
Love is us in the light,
Faith is us in the dark,
Hope is their little sister, shadow.
Light pervades, it is cast on everything.
Darkness is borne of knowledge, awareness of the unseen and ignorance.
Then comes the interplay between what we would desire, and what is.
Love is the source-fuel of spirit,
It is the stream in which we swim. It is the air we breathe.
Rejecting love requires a thing to displace it.
No void of love is without a source.
Faith is where we can prosper, navigating all that we can see.
Moving along the stream boldly, wisely relying on what 'ought to be' to avoid cataclysm.
So essentially pervasive is faith, that it engenders itself, without prompting, without hiding.
Faith is most often taken for granted in a world where words are playthings.
Hope is our agency.
Although often rejected, often diminished, it too persists endlessly undaunted.
She dances, flittering about like a pretty butterfly in the light.
We have choices in hope, but no certainty... faith is seen ever-presented with hope.
[author's note]
I really don't know if this is making any sense to anyone other than me...
Too obtuse, too pretentious?... I doubt anyone in my real life would even entertain this...
But you guys are often kinder, so I offer it humbly for your potential amusement.
