For Albert.




Loss of Faith

When the rain wouldn't come, we hired a shaman. He chanted
And danced. There still was no rain. The people around us,
Who'd been sent to college, consulted some scientists. All
Of them said that the satellite data suggested that there'd be
No rain. We suffered. We couldn't grow food. More to
The point, we became very cynical, cursing both science
And gods.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2025-05-15 at 03:26

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Perhaps I shouldn't have, but I smiled when I read your poem. It was its ironic nature that got to me! I think the problem is timing. Ultimately it is going to rain, and Murphy's Law states that when it rains it will be at the wrong time!
In respect of the Shaman, it's the paradox of prophecy too.
Blessings, Allen
2025-05-16


Albert Vynckier The PoetBay support member heart!
this shaman!

he was born with a job !
some might heritate the job from their parents

many gods, many faiths?

sciences didn't help to make rain
as
gods didn't help too
2025-05-15