I desperately rack my brain trying to come up with a plausible story, the guilt making me feel sick with the taste of these not yet spoken untruths. “I lost track of time”, “It took longer to finish the (insert word of choice: shopping, appointment) than I expected” and “I’m meeting a friend for coffee” have been worn out too many excuses ago. Suddenly I’m tired of all the deception, the lip service of commitment and the half-hearted attention I have been paying to this relationship for too long. I make a silent vow to change my ways: I will devote more time to you; I will ignore the lure of this new love; I will speak the truth. So I do: “I have been unfaithful to my cleaning duty, but I promise I will not “Art” today and I WILL do the damn housework”. (Yet, even as I think it, I taste the sourness of lies).
I saw a sign on one of the local churches driving through town this morning which really didn’t make much sense to me (and I read it 3 times to make sure what I was seeing actually computed in my brain) it said:
“Faith without evidence is just superstition”
I thought (religious) faith was more this definiton:
“strong belief in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than proof.”
This church usually displays a clever play on words/current happenings in their messages, so this one has been bugging me all day, is there some secret inverted* meaning that I missed?
*Writing this I just thought to read the message backwards: “Superstition just is evidence without Faith” – but that doesn’t even make sense because superstition usually doesn’t have any evidence!
“a widely held but irrational belief in supernatural influences, especially as leading to good or bad luck, or a practice based on such a belief.”
Oh well, just another small mystery of life I guess.
It all happened so fast
on a blind corner on the highway
I couldn’t swerve to miss you
you ran straight into the road
cars coming both ways
you turned back in front of me
the sound of the impact
lingers long after the fact
so loud, for such a small thing
I don’t know whose friend you were
a little grey whippet
worn leather collar but no tags
The comfort of strangers
as I cried on the edge of a busy road
for a little grey whippet.
Somewhere, someone will be wondering
when you don’t come home
I’m so sorry.