Faith crisis poetry


  1. Extinguished fire, now cold and dark, that blazed once bright and sure,
  2. That warmed my self, my heart, my soul and made my spirit pure,
  3. I watched you die as rain poured down and choked your fighting flames.
  4. I frantically worked day and night to save you; ’twas in vain.
  5. I tried to feed you splintered wood from off my broken shelf,
  6. But you returned just smoke to me—no heat, no light, no health.
  7. I sat there staring at the ash for days and weeks and months,
  8. Waiting, hoping, wishing, too, that flames to me would come.
  9. But nothing came. ’Twas all in vain. My efforts fruitless now.
  10. I needed faith, and courage, too, to stand and leave somehow.
  11. And so I planted feet down firm, clung to the frigid hearth,
  12. Stood up, breathed deep, hung down my head, and stepped with heavy heart.
  13. But then, just then, something had gleamed deep in the snowy ash:
  14. An ember, lone and minuscule, beckoned to me, “Come back”.
  15. A spark exists! A hope of flame, something there inside,
  16. But still no fuel, and rain still falls. All I can do is sigh.

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By Kim Siever

I live in Lethbridge with my spouse and 4 of our 6 children. I’m a writer, focusing on political news, social issues, and the occasional poem. My politics are radically left. I am a political economy student at the University of Athabasca, working on my second undergrad degree.

I’m also dichotomally Mormon. And I’m a functional vegetarian: I have a blog post about that somewhere around here. My pronouns are he/him, and I’m queer.

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