Competing Religion: From the window of a train
All across the flat lands,
The scattered stoic stone spires of English churches,
reach towards the sky,
in tribute to their god,
Crying to be heard,
A testament to the toil of their beliefs.
And in the fields of gold,
The withered wooden limbs of lightening trees,
reach towards it too,
in honour of their gods.
Dying to be seen,
A testament to the toil of the believed.
And all the while, the black-backed crows
Sit silently stretched along the wires.
Straining to see whose god answers first.
2017
Yet another poem from the window of the Wakefield to London East Coast train. On my way to a meeting in London, I looked out across the landscape, (which flattens as you go south) and was struck by the old versus the new, in terms of religion. Pagan versus Christianity, in the form of the spires dotted across the landscape in villages and hamlets, and burnt-out lightening trees, dotted across the landscape in the fields. Both seemingly reaching towards the sky seeking their god(s). Pondering this, and reflecting on how life was going, (Martin was so very poorly at this point) I wondered about God and gods, and whether one or the other actually helps at all, and which one if any, would answer your prayers first.
PUBLISHED on Impspired.com Dec 22: Issue 20 Online December 2022. Volume Ten print edition January 2023