Faith

By Linda Pastan b. 1932 Linda Pastan

For Ira

With the seal of science
emblazoned
on your forehead,
like the old Good Housekeeping
Seal of Approval,
I believe what you tell me
about cells and molecules,
though I can't see them.

And though the language you speak
is full of numbers and symbols
I'll never understand;
though your tie is askew
and your hair unruly, still I believe
what you say about the size of the universe,
which is either expanding or contracting,
I've forgotten which already.

So if tomorrow you tell me
you made a small miscalculation,
that God indeed created the world
in 6 short days, then rested on the 7th,
that it was Eve who landed us
in all this trouble, I would believe you.
I would believe you
as I've always done before.

Source: Poetry (December 2002).

MORE FROM THIS ISSUE

This poem originally appeared in the December 2002 issue of Poetry magazine

View this poem in its original format

December 2002
 Linda  Pastan

Biography

Poet Linda Pastan was raised in New York City but has lived for most of her life in Potomac, Maryland, a suburb of Washington, DC. In her senior year at Radcliffe College, Pastan won the Mademoiselle poetry prize (Sylvia Plath was the runner-up). Immediately following graduation, however, she decided to give up writing poetry in order to concentrate on raising her family. After ten years at home, her husband urged her to return . . .

Continue reading this biography

Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Relationships, Faith & Doubt, Sciences, Religion, Arts & Sciences, Men & Women

POET’S REGION U.S., Mid-Atlantic

Report a problem with this poem


Your results will be limited to content that appeared in Poetry magazine.

Search Every Issue of Poetry

Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

This poem has learning resources.

This poem is good for children.

This poem has related video.

This poem has related audio.