The frame and feed, like mine, unseen,
your bone and blood set good or bad –
I have faith that they operate,
progress, synapse, direction led.
But what the spirit, undergrowth,
that prompts, lays pathway followed, guide,
genetics, yes, but more than that,
your early learning, choices laid.
What shape, person under this skin,
that waterproof, imbibes, secretes,
what is response to grace and sin,
however dressed, subculture slang?
I’m not recruiting, sergeant priest,
attraction null and void, most church,
but fundamentals undermine,
that battle, good for others, me?
I don’t much care which Faith, or none,
for all bare witness, rule of thumb,
the poverty, behaviour’s sum,
despite saints scattered, every one.
But freedom’s will is human trait
that marks our species from remain;
whatever blame lies in our roots,
we are not puppets of our past.
Survival, global harmony –
which starts, living not drawing room,
is found in knowing we are loved,
the anatomy of a song.
So join the orchestra at large,
dispense with boundaries around,
the gang, or tribe, the nation state,
and find new notes, fresh score become.
Stop playing on the smaller stage,
as coasts arise and ozone fails,
join stewardship with common cause,
and prove the human worth its weight.
Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church, has had over 250 pieces published by on-line poetry sites, including Poetry Potion, printed journals and anthologies. https://poetrykingsnorth.wordpress.com/