My faith
is pinned to the wall
and flutters in the window like a curtain.

There is no trickery
my devious heart
could not entertain as a certainty.

Whatever travels, ends.
It is my stillness,
reaching out to grab at light as it passes;
clutching the wind in its fingers
only to fold back and fall,
sliding through its own grasp in its grasping;
my stillness,
hooked immovably to my stale frame,
that is the keeper of my shallow heart,
that is keeping my reckless heart

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4 Comments on “Curtains”

  1. The line “sliding through its own grasp in its grasping” is very beautiful, and reminds me of a kind of Hegelian subsuming of the self (although that is less beautiful).

    • Carroll Boswell Says:

      I don’t know much about Hegel; those philosophers have always been hard on me but I still intend to try. It must have been one of those subconscious associations, the curtain moved by the wind while it fails to trap it. I wonder how much beauty is caused by things, or us, failing to do what we try to do? See Flannery O’Connor’s paragraph introducing Wise Blood, one of my all time favorite books though I am at a loss as to why.

      • I’ve been meaning to read O’Connor for a while — that might have to be my next book!

        I agree with you about beauty and failure. But, that must be odd for a Christian? Since, if there was no Fall, there would be no failure?

    • Carroll Boswell Says:

      I think beauty is what it is now because of the Fall. If there had been no Fall, beauty itself would have been different, something we cannot now imagine. But now after the Fall, beauty is all part of the grieving and desire for redemption, mourning at the failure of all things. I suppose I am answering my own question: all beauty is caused by failure. Someday I hope it will be different.
      I also especially love O’Connor’s short story “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”.

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