Real Or Fake Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The numbers tell a curious tale,
Of faith declared, but sometimes frail.

The Pew folks ask, the answers flow,
About belief, and where we go.

Some say they trust in God above,
A claim of faith, a sign of love.

But prayer, a whispered, daily need,
Is less frequent, a scattered seed.

'Religion's core, ' some loudly say,
Yet actions drift another way.

The label sticks, 'A Christian true, '
But Sunday pews have fewer views.

Who's 'real' or 'fake, ' a tangled thread,
Depending on the rules we've read.

A 'closet Christian, ' known by name,
A faith kept hidden, a quiet flame.

Our Lord's desire, a light so bright,
Not tucked away in darkest night.

The surveys whisper, clear and low,
That faith's much more than just a show.


T.M.Solvang