wordsout by godfrey rust
The sailing of the ark  < 9 of 45


So much that at one time seemed unassailable
flickers and fades like a dream. We were conceived

in the womb of relative ignorance, inheritors
of certain sets of workable hypotheses—

a shopping-trolley loaded with beliefs—
and in the trials of circumstance our faith

or its nonentity is shaped by what happens to us
or driven by it flat into the ground. The

lightning flashes of experience
illuminate the chasm that divides

our creed from what we actually believe—
orthodoxy and athiesm are alike,

tents where a refugee faith camps
out of the unrelenting weather of the harder questions.