True Faith

By J.S. O’Keefe

Missing in the murk;
ambivalence boiling from the bog;

the mind drifts through blurred ideas,

chasing meaning and wondering

if true faith remains.
 
We were born in another town's shadow,

shaped by the salt of hereabout tears;

souls packed, pressed breathless,

aching to burst free.
 
We only count on ourselves;

cheek by jowl, defiant, unyielding;

no room for envy or hollow pity;

no room for the fog of gloom;

true faith is our bloom. 
 
The field’s gone barren;

who is the land?
memory rises;
we were wanderers:

aliens, pilgrims, exiles,

trudging to the horizon in the distance.
 
Endurance refuses to dim;

muscle, marrow, spirit;

we’re bound to what survives the dark:

true faith.
 
We will claw our way back;

we will reclaim the land,

lifting the yoke at last.

J.S. O’Keefe has published several short stories, creative essays and poems in print and online literary magazines. More at his website: https://www.szjohnny.net