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Jul. 8th, 2002 07:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kuangningI believe in a life force,
Vast beyond imagining,
Evident in the tiniest things around us...
The wind through the pines,
The stark silhouette of a fawn and doe
Standing shyly at the edge of the woods
In the morning light.
I believe that it is part, if not all,
Of everything that makes me who and what I am;
I believe that it makes me a part of
Everything else around me...
The mystery of a child's first cry,
The clean lines of the diver,
Caught in mid-flight;
The grace of the dancer,
Alone with the spotlight and the music...
They are all in me, and I in them,
If only I believe;
If I dare to dream, with the simple
Sweet faith of a child,
That the world is mine.
And I believe...
I believe because I must;
The alternative
Is to endure loneliness and emptiness.
I believe because when I do,
That force connects us all,
Like a fragile, delicate web of crystal,
And all that I do has meaning,
For there is no isolation:
I dare not act for me alone.
I believe, for belief draws me into
The best within myself,
And, in my heart,
I become you become me...
But only when I believe.
... hunting through old archives again. I was sixteen and in college when I wrote this. I am more pleased than I can say, that the words still ring true for me. Sixteen is one of those years when a girl isn't expected to even think clearly, after all -- let alone be about the business of determining and defining her internal truths. Much of what I wrote that year, like much of what I write any year, is garbage. Two things in particular have survived this far. The Godseed concept, and this poem. I'm glad.
Vast beyond imagining,
Evident in the tiniest things around us...
The wind through the pines,
The stark silhouette of a fawn and doe
Standing shyly at the edge of the woods
In the morning light.
I believe that it is part, if not all,
Of everything that makes me who and what I am;
I believe that it makes me a part of
Everything else around me...
The mystery of a child's first cry,
The clean lines of the diver,
Caught in mid-flight;
The grace of the dancer,
Alone with the spotlight and the music...
They are all in me, and I in them,
If only I believe;
If I dare to dream, with the simple
Sweet faith of a child,
That the world is mine.
And I believe...
I believe because I must;
The alternative
Is to endure loneliness and emptiness.
I believe because when I do,
That force connects us all,
Like a fragile, delicate web of crystal,
And all that I do has meaning,
For there is no isolation:
I dare not act for me alone.
I believe, for belief draws me into
The best within myself,
And, in my heart,
I become you become me...
But only when I believe.
... hunting through old archives again. I was sixteen and in college when I wrote this. I am more pleased than I can say, that the words still ring true for me. Sixteen is one of those years when a girl isn't expected to even think clearly, after all -- let alone be about the business of determining and defining her internal truths. Much of what I wrote that year, like much of what I write any year, is garbage. Two things in particular have survived this far. The Godseed concept, and this poem. I'm glad.
