the discomfort of belief

when even the view
from the hill
looks the same
and your shadow
surpasses
the travails of sleep
you slip behind the camera eye
put your head
behind hands
once used to conceal
your eyes
in games with children
and
pray
like you did as a child
when you still believed
in something
believed
and the promise of days
greater
than those behind
taken for granted
never again
all hands on deck
brothers
all hands on deck
to behold
the way the dawn
imposes its will
upon the night
after night
by day
proud
defiant
like god
like the boy you were
and remain
if you believe it so
in hiding
ever doubting
yet ever wanting
to impose your will
on days
like god
and nothing less