Poet Posing on Prose Platform

Climbing Rope

triple-strand-treeClimbing rope

of inborn Faith

rubbed by Reason

and Commonsense

outer threads

so frayed

fear of snapping

giving way

to Logic’s

tiresome friction.


Terror of the fraying rope

aware of chasm waiting fall

Despair decides against all Faith

rope serves no purpose after all.


But there’s in Faith

an inner strand

defying allchassm

and reaching hand

threads back

to the Beginning

to the beginning

of the rope



hand in Hope.