.
Prayer as an Antidote for Unbelief
Just imagine if, while you’re entreating the sky,
You were met with the wink of a generous Eye.
__A very grave disaster it would be
__If all there was to your approach to God
__Were, now and ever, for eternity,
__Dead fingers pushing past the frozen sod.
And consider the weight of a miserable life
That with pain, disappointment and trouble is rife.
__It might seem better to have died at birth,
__But that is just because you neither learned
__To fully grasp what every life is worth,
__Nor any value in your own discerned.
As a matter of faith, there’s a listening Ear
That is tuned to your struggles as well as your fear.
__It isn’t necessary to believe
__To gain the many benefits of prayer—
__By asking, you’re positioned to receive:
__Call out, and of a Presence come aware.
.
.
Often Is Heard a Discouraging Word
His plight distressed him, and he thought it rather urgent
To find a practical, long-lasting remedy:
His goals and his accomplishments were not convergent,
And what was worse, he couldn’t trust his memory.
He went to church and sought the counsel of his pastor:
“Be patient; pray to God at least three times a day.”
He answered, “Can you not suggest a course that’s faster?”
The preacher shook his head and turned his face away.
He went to Mercy Clinic where a young head-shrinker
Advised he think nice thoughts and always knock on wood,
But that went over like a very large lead sinker,
And didn’t do the man the slightest bit of good.
He called his older brother, who was quite successful
In everything he did, and he was promptly told
That almost nothing makes a life become more stressful
Than trying to seem young when you are growing old.
“So act your age, and nothing less, and stop pretending
That you should be much more than what you really are.
The latent possibilities are never-ending,”
His brother said, “which doesn’t mean that you’ll go far.”
.
.
C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India. His collection, Mortal Soup and the Blue Yonder was published in 2013 by White Violet Press.
What a powerful poem “Antidote is.” I hope it lives forever. Not only that, but it has a sibling:
Unreal, give back to us what once you gave:
The Imagination that we spurned and crave.
– Wallace Stevens
To the One of Fictive Music
Not only that, but once, when my life had become a mess out of my control, a friend advised me to do exactly as the last quatrain of your poem instructs, and though I was an infidel at the time I did as he advised and I found the “presence” of your poem’s ending to be listening on the other end of the line and to be willing and able to make changes in me that I could not make in myself, and since then that presence has been my best friend.
I’m glad, Dan, that my poem echoed your personal experience, and I’m inclined to think that such experiences are not all that uncommon. Such occurrences are, as they say, self-validating. I’m not necessaarily saying that this has been my own personal experience; rather, it seems to me to be a logical inference from one of the promises that is given in Scripture.
I don’t think you can ask more of a poem than the effect your “Antidote” had on Dan.
The second poem is strong also. I have the feeling it’s the same horse of a different color.
Sometimes, jd, a writer gets lucky that way, and it’s a lot to ask for. If the second poem seems connected, it might be because the two were written around the same time, in a similar frame of mind.
This is a great pair of poems, where one is the solution to the problem described in the other one. I like that you placed the anti-dote on top and the poisonous dotage below. I enjoyed reading these very much, thank you.
I hadn’t thought of it that way, Yael, until now, and the order in which poems appear is entirely up to Evan. You are welcome, of course.
Amen to your poem on prayer. That is the antidote, as well as the encouraging word!
Can I get an “Amen?” Looks like it, Roy. Sometimes home on the range is the best place to be.
The latter poem seems to be a good example of teasing sibling interaction. True story?
No Russel, it’s completely fictive. In my family I am the older brother, and I can’t change that.
Advice in the “Prayer” poem sounds like what I’ve heard of Step 2 in any of the many 12-step programs. Step 1 is not to “believe first” but usually to recognize one’s misery and helplessness. But as that does not always apply to those interested in prayer, I imagine the process you describe could be just as good a start.
Who knows, Margaret? I’m not enrolled in any program, but I do take stairs one step at a time. Prayer, for me, is an occasional thing, though I do own a rosary.
I like the way you mixed up the rhythm in the first poem. I’ve never thought to do that but it changed the mood/tone very effectively. The message reminded me a little of the “no atheists in foxholes” expression (not that we should wait until we end up in a foxhole before we pray). Great work!
Yeah, Warren, what you read was alternating anapestic couplets and iambic quatrains.
As always, excellent and thought-provoking work, C.B. Your “Antidote” poem dislodged a couple of memories: I’ve heard prayer described as action which confirms the willingness of the praying person to be helped. As you say, “By asking, you’re position to receive.” And I’ve also heard of right action leading to right thinking.
And the patent wisdom of the brother in “Discouraging Word” is something I needed to hear: “So act your age, and nothing less, and stop pretending
That you should be much more than what you really are.”
Reading your poetry invariably leaves me better for the experience.
I never had an older brother at all, or even a surrogate who spoke to me in that manner, and as an older brother myself I never spoke to any of my siblings that way. Praying must be one of the easiest things there is to do.
C. B., I love your word pictures – “wink of a generous eye” and “a listening ear that is tuned to your struggles as well as your fears.” Very descriptive and relatable.
Images rule, Rusty, and I wouldn’t want to get rusty at installing them.