St. James, the bearer of trust unchanged;
Thomas the eternal doubter.
In my mind they seem the same,
Merely faith tied to a course.
I am in search of faith uncharted.
The intangible absurdity of existence;
With the absolutes of panentheism.
No utiopia from Moore,
Or the beasts of Descartes.
I should at once,
Ask what faith requires of me.
What it asks of me,
Whether I can match the faith of even the smallest rocks.
And that it not be by chance, that I race towards it.