Can you have faith in someone you feel they do not need it?

A Poem: Blurry by Carlo Mahfouz

Blurry is a beauty,
occasionally squinting for a brief focus
that relaxes back into the blurry
rather than the other way around.

The more focused we are,
the less open our gaze is.
The more precise our predicament,
the worse our acceptance is.
The more, the more
lies the lies
of the cruelty of more.

The bully encroaches
in their decisiveness and clarity,
believing no other could be or is.
Where the shy, the timid instead relaxes
in the ease of a moment lacking
but respectfully probably way more than it merits.

Conviction is such a dangerous dream
in the silence of a scream
of the agony of clarity dancing in a haze,
oblivious of the beauty of the blurry shadow
that follows its every move.

Listening dies in the eyes
of the all-seeing and knowing,
for it has no room to breathe,
and in the cacophony of sounds
played to muse and command,
the sound that carries or moves
denies itself the gift of seeing.

For in the blurry of being,
the whole of who we are melds
in the blurry of the one.
Withholding the seeking of clarity
amid the haze of every day’s uncertainty
continues to relish the moment
where the blurry calls you
and, in its essence, molds you.

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