“Faith”

We cry, we children of the blessèd light,
Against our deeds most reeking in the dark—
For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite.

Our children we expose to future plight
While oft we miss the calling of the lark
We cry, we children of the blessèd light.

A holy hush of Faith within full sight
That scatters seeds all o’er our gardens marked
For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite.

We are good soil, most fertile if we might
Unite behind our prophet Thunberg, hark!
We cry, we children of the blessèd light.

Affected not are we by cold twilight;
We do not fear to stand against the dark
For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite.

So, will you water seed with Faith’s sunlight? —
Diluvian escape upon an ark.
We cry, we children of the blessèd light,
For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite.

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Bravo Oscar! You’re a deep soul, and this is a thoroughly well-thought out and well researched work. Thank you for creating art that addresses our most grave existential crisis. Best wishes to you!

Composer christopher tin

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The poem is a villanelle, so it contains two refrains—“We cry, we children of the blessèd light” and “For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite”—and a set rhyme scheme. I have written the poem in iambic pentameter for its natural flow; furthermore, the iambic pattern of an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable mirrors the dum-Dum-dum-Dum of the beating human heart, which accentuates the motif of the unity of humanity through Faith.

The first stanza opens the poem with contrasting imagery, as the first refrain and second line develop the auditory and visual imagery of a dark scene with the echoes of the cries of children, as if in response to some “deeds most reeking” committed (later, one can infer that the “deeds” relate to our treatment of the planet and the ensuing climate change). The second refrain and final line of the first stanza first establishes the idea of Faith as a “kind root” that “reach[es] deep and do[es] unite.” I chose to use capital Faith to refer more broadly to faith in general—a faith in humanity, in our ability to survive climate change, and in one’s religious beliefs, whatever they may be. The contrast is purposeful to juxtapose Faith and despair, for Faith is our ultimate salvation. The image in my video and at the beginning of this document illustrates this idea: the change we need requires cultivation and care, hence the depiction of the garden. As the poem develops, so does the meaning of the image, and I shall return it periodically.

The second stanza builds upon “deeds most reeking,” with humanity exposing “our children…to future plight—” again, referring to the actions and inactions we as a species have committed—quite literally poisoning the atmosphere, our planet, and our children with CO₂ and other toxic greenhouse gases. The second line furthers the idea of humanity’s ignorance, as we “miss the calling of the lark.” We miss the sweet golden sunrise building on the horizon; we miss the beauteous hope ringing true in Faith all around us. The repetition of the first refrain now takes on a different meaning: we cry out because of our ignorance, because of our inner light driving us. 

The third stanza begins with an answer to our cries— “a holy hush of Faith within full sight.” The line both makes a subtle reference to Wallace Steven’s masterpiece “Sunday Morning,” in terms of the loss of faith, and uses the literary technique of chiasmus to play with the phrase “within full sight:” the phrase both refers to the true ubiquity of Faith in all humanity and to the “holy hush of Faith” being “with full insight,” with Faith enabling us to see—giving us insight to—the invisible. The second line furthers the concept of Faith planting the seed of hope within all of us, again reinforced by the planting of the seeds in the image. Furthermore, this line clearly establishes that the seeds of hope have already been scattered within us; we only need to cherish and nourish them to cultivate the greatest change. The repetition of the second refrain builds on the motif of the garden: the roots of the seeds planted within us grow deep, nourished by Faith, and connect us—hence the hands shaking in the image. Thus, Faith is the essential ingredient, like water and sunlight, in growing the most thriving garden of hope, possibility, and change.

The fourth stanza alludes to the Parable of the Sower, with specific reference to “good soil:” “Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown” (Matthew 13:8). The reference serves to highlight that we are fertile ground to sow a garden of hope and change, with Faith binding everything together; however, most people do not realize the potential of the seed lying inside of them. In the second line, Greta Thunberg appears as a “prophet”—one aware of the climate injustices we are wreaking on ourselves and our planet, and one willing to make sacrifices to spread her message. The reference to Thunberg solidifies the aspect of climate change and the element of commentary on her actions in the poem. Thunberg has awakened humanity to its bleak fate if we do not act. She is our voice, calling for change when most others are too afraid to lead the fight. She is sowing the seeds of the salvation of humanity. But we are not silent bystanders—“hark” the voices joining her chorus. In this sense, the first refrain reflects the echoes of our calls, united by Thunberg—our calls that cry out for action and reform against climate change and our injustices.

The fifth stanza clarifies the source of our motivation to fight and call out—Thunberg is not that source; rather, she has, in a way, cleansed us of our blindness and allowed us to discover our own inner light and inner potential. She has cleared the dirt from our eyes blinding us to the inaction of our world’s governments at large. She has allowed us to see the true state of the planet. But the first line clearly states: “Affected not are we by cold twilight” (with emphasis on “not” and “we” because of the iambic meter). It is not the horror and destruction that await us if we do not act that motivate us to speak out, for “we do not fear to stand against the dark.” It is that we believe in miracles—that we believe, we know, that we can save ourselves, our children, our species, and our planet. This belief in miracles strengthens with the second refrain, again with Faith’s roots growing ever deeper and ever stronger united with our cries. As we become more aware of the situation facing us, our calls become stronger, the light becomes brighter, and Faith’s fertile roots reach out as the poem climaxes.

The sixth and final stanza expands upon the previously mentioned motifs by breaking the collective we and our and asking you a question. “So, will you water seed with Faith’s sunlight” asks if you will accept Faith, if you will let it permeate you like sunlight to nurture and guide you. The reference to dripping sunlight suggests bounteous light from the heavens and Faith from our hearts pouring into humanity’s rich garden in the morning, contrasting with the darkness, obscurity, and almost haziness of the opening. This question essentially asks if you will allow yourself to be reborn by Faith and if you will join its light—if you will join humanity. In the image, the hand represents you—we—watering the seeds of our future and hope with Faith; it is thus Faith that enables our incipient seeds to flourish and intertwine with those of humanity, again with the roots in a firm handshake clearly illustrating that connection. The em dash at the end of the question expands on this thought with the line: “Diluvian escape upon an ark.” This line both references the Great Flood and climate change, for as the ice caps melt, sea level rises, and we quite literally face severe flooding affecting billions of billions of people in many parts of the world. This line essentially says that the only way we can escape the drastic changes both awaiting us in the future and happening right now is on an ark of Faith—it is not an abandonment of the ship of Earth; rather, the ark of Faith is how we save the ship of Earth. By acting to protect and preserve the planet and by thinking more cooperatively and in the long-term, we will escape from and prevent the worst of the terrible fate that awaits all life on Earth if we do not act, thereby keeping Earth itself an ark. The purpose of the question is to make the audience think—to make them consider their own actions, where they stand on Faith, and whether or not they will become a part of the beating soul of humanity and intertwine and deepen their own roots with the nourishment of the light. The question also leaves a degree of openness to the ending: it is up to you to make the necessary actions to reconnect with humanity. But now with the first and second refrains repeated for their fourth and final time, there is a sense of clarity. You must decide what you will do, but we already know what we will do. “We cry, we children of the blessèd light, / For Faith’s kind roots reach deep and do unite.” These refrains, in their final couplet form, hit upon the heart of the poem: we cry, we care, because of our Faith—our Faith in miracles, our Faith in hope, our Faith in humanity. 

As another note, the song used in the video is called “Caoineadh” by Christopher Tin, which Irish-Gaelic for “crying.” The song takes an excerpt from a poem by the same name (“Caoineadh Airt Uí Laoghaire”), which immortalizes the grief of a woman named Eileen, whose husband was slain by an Englishman after he refused to sell his horse. In the poem and in the song, Eileen implores her husband to return to life with both sorrow at his loss and hope for his return. The poignant, despairful yearning reflects the tone “Faith” so well, especially with the first refrain building from a cry of sorrow to a cry of action, with the direction and unity of Faith as established by the second refrain. Our greed and hubris are causing the death of our planet, ourselves, and our children—well reflected in the arrogance and savagery of the Englishman. Notwithstanding our transgressions, we are also Eileen, mourning the loss of life; like her, however, we have hope—we have Faith—in humanity. Additionally, as she cries, more voices join her, just as we join Thunberg’s call, and so builds the intensity of the piece and the strength of Faith.

Furthermore, Tin’s epic masterpiece “Baba Yetu”—the Lord’s Prayer sung in Swahili—exemplifies how Faith can connect us on an intimate level as humans, united in our struggles, united in our griefs, and united in our passions. I think “Baba Yetu” is a powerful reminder that regardless of our wealth, education, or religion, we all share an unbreakable, transcendental bond as humans—a bond of Faith.

You may listen to “Caoineadh” here: https://youtu.be/14pa-6Sxel4 and “Baba Yetu” here: https://youtu.be/IJiHDmyhE1A 

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We are humans. We are not creatures of rationality; we are creatures of emotion. It is our empathy—beyond our capacity for thought—that defines who we are. Thus, the cold, logical reasoning of science—the statistics, numbers, predictions—will not save us. However horrific and compelling we might hope the science on the state of the planet may be, it will ultimately not drive people to act. Nevertheless, Faith will precipitate the change we need—a Faith nurtured by our inner light, by our inner good and commonality as humans. It is Faith that draws on this light and it is Faith that has the power to connect every person, no matter his color, creed, or country. Faith is universal. As more voices call out, Faith’s kind roots grow deeper, connecting with others and strengthening. As Faith’s roots grow, more voices call out. On and on call our voices and grow the roots of Faith. On and on, until the world—a place once thought so disparate and disconnected—is one. On and on, until we are one expression of life, one beating soul of humanity. It is then when all of our gravest problems—climate change, inequality, world peace—shall become no more than trifling footnotes in the annals of humankind and melt away like the morning frost in a strong, united sunlight.