Father’s Faith


In the year old King Uziah died

Isaiah wrote–– my father cried–– 

To show us that uncertainty in great events

Turns peoples’ minds to God.

And father never doubted that was good,

So sure was he

His God had authored the uncertainty.


“But could it be”, 

I ask of father through the grave,

“That it was we–– 

Well knowing we aren't brave 

When caught in the teeth of tumult, shock of state

Loss of love, traumatic twist of fate;

Nor knowing well to answer how or why

When facing pain, or death, or child's cry–– 

Gave our own souls an empathetic nod,

Creating for ourselves the solace of a god?”


I saw the Lord lifted, raised on high . . .

The prophet swore–– and father sighed––

Each showing that his certainty was justified.

And father never doubted that was sound

So sure was he

The holy word was always certainty.


God’s angel put a hot coal on my lips’,

the prophet claimed––Dad carefully explained––

ordaining him to call the people to his God, in vain.

The prophet’s simple message true and clear:

No ifs, no ands, no buts, no room for doubt,

Accept my God, or live without.


And father always knew just what was good,

So sure was he

His God was true, the only certainty.

 © Philip Knight 2018