My faith is populated with questions! It is not a resting place. Seldom is it at peace. My faith has never grown up. It lives by rebelling, still wanting to remain young. I think if my faith ever matures, it dies. Jesus knew this. Neruda could make mountains tumble with one word. Perhaps only Lorca knows the secret.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s