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Doubt

Doubt is a faint chill

you feel while sitting

in a cozy place,

wearing that soft sweater

your parents gave you.

 

You decide to light a fire,

and reach up with your hand,

to lift the cold, iron handle

of the chimney flue.

Glancing down,

you see your fingers stained

with black soot and ash.

You wonder, do my fingers match my soul?

Does God really love me?

 

The fire burns.

Like a prayer,

it starts small, but grows.

You hold out your ***** fingers,

to warm them by that fire.

You warm them, like Thomas

warmed his own,

in the side of Jesus.

Slowly that chill,

begins to leave you.

You begin to hope.

You hope because,

there is nothing else to do.

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
skylark-12
57 / M
Published
Feb 18
Lines·Words
27·124
Tags
#religion#doubt#belief
Permission

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