Belief: Cassandra Kulay

I haven’t known what to say,
what is right, I do not know.
To say what I want will hurt
and the healing is uncertain.
To be silent against the odds
is to forget the sound of my
own voice or the feel of my

Silence is as beautiful
as it is threatening.
Fearful when it stifles
and hanging heavy with
menace and unknown

Silence seems an art
not an answer.
It can become so thick
it barricades everything.
A mind is not created
to pass judgement on any
man or thing, but to nobly
try to comprehend the
incomprehensible and
discover clarity in opacity.
It is not glory that must
motivate the true mind but
love for the idea, the truth
and the belief.

Like a fragment of the heavens,
burning cold and stinging,
I come, instinctively searching
for another part of me.
Intruding, scratching, holding
up the mirrors
of a lost world –
drawn by the idea of truth
and an endless belief.

For I do believe.
And it’s been a long time coming.
Faith is only the idea
that things are alright – ultimately.
The truth is unknown but
I reach and am comforted,
from the idea of solace
is born the belief.