The woman draws SUNFLOWERS
in the vain belief
it will draw her closer to the Son.
That something in their nature
could inspire her to have faith.
But these flowers follow so blindly
this body giving them life.
How could THEY
not dare to question why
all things depend on one such thing?
Many would call this foolish
Perhaps, some would chime in ‘bold’
and yet here she is
pen to paper praying
for divine deliverance
from blind submission.
Yet there she has it
at the tip of her quill.
Her faith is not blind at all
but driven
by an outer force
like sunshine
in the face of flowers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enjoyed the poetic outcome of your inner inquiries. Faith is a gift it appears you have. From time to time, questioning that gift is certainly allowed. Fascinating work, Lisa!