The Old Aches Of Faith

The old aches of faith
have now returned, to mock my
retreat, into crass,
modern 'sensibilities'.
Sometimes pain can force
us to look at where we are
heading. It can be
a most unwelcome guest in
comfortable hours
of languid convenience,
particularly,
when we think we've got it made.
I cannot free myself
from the call of divine ways:
of sacrifice and
surrender, to something far
greater, than my
fragile, yet demanding, ego.
Artificial times,
of hazy dreaming, make it
so difficult to
to perceive the Light of Truth:
which can be hidden.
For often secular pleasures
seems all pervasive.
Yet they are fleeting shadows,
when we witness them,
from a detached perspective.
Tillich spoke about
the courage to be. Although
that sounds so simple,
Yet in this age of stages,
And masks of all kinds,
Ii's possibly the hardest
thing to achieve. With
this in mind, I'll endeavour
to do much better.
I'll let my mask slip, little
by little, and take
time away from Life's vain stage.