Faith so as to move

Mountainous is the task to open
Your eyes to the truth of what exists in
Flowing streams, in fountains, in the wide glen
Of this bottle, this toy from which we win
An understanding of the world in it's
Miniature form; one might move mountains
Before you recognize that mankind sits
Upon a vast sum of orr, foundations
Rich, and in the poorest of the world's face
Thrives the glory found in the richest man's
Clothing. Yet you do no see, not a trace
Of sulfuric acid from a great fan
Of volcanic ash would you perceive, though
It were upon you and you were dead. Cross
The Road a million times without a true
Knowledge of it's shape, I am at a loss
For what to do with you of little brains!
For brains do confirm what the heart knows, and
You seem to know little in your heart, feign
Deaf to an avalanche, and understand
Little in the cries that do assail your
Ears! You need better sails rather than oars,
Need eyes in the nest to call out the waves
That do crash upon your bow; what fine slaves
You have that know more than you do about
The mountains you move with loud mouthed machines,
But you do not pay them a whit of thought.
Rather, inside currents of greedy dreams
You have been found, have been easily caught.
How long till you understand that mountains
Are easier moved than the hearts that move
Them from your path? Yours is like a fountain
That lacks a running stream to supply groove,
Cannot sustain anything other than being,
And is like art; which can only be seen. 

                  Faith so as to move...(c) Luke Bennette, July 2012