The Lady of Faith

By Reagan Ralph

The Ferryman is drawn towards the mist.

He rows through the obscurity towards a bank.

The flowing water his oars meet,

grows still as he approaches shore.

He felt out of tune with the river’s vibrations.

Every oar stroke moved the river,

yet the shore refused to change.

Amid his trembling, a lady appears upon the shore.

Dressed like a priestess, sturdy yet soft.

Her presence felt peaceful,

yet the surroundings felt unsettling.

The boat stopped of its own accord near her feet.

The Lady looked upon The Ferryman and said.

“Does the stability make you uneasy?”

The Ferryman looked across the motionless water before replying.

“Indeed, when continuity stops, becoming dies.”

“But if everything dissolves, continuity dies with it.”

She replies without untying her hands.

Her stillness is disciplined piety.

He asks gently. “Why are you here?”

“A vow to remain for the one I love”.

Her voice firmer than the rocks around her.

“Has your faith in love become another chain?”

“My chains are immovable, love leaves no void.”

He stares at his oar drifting, as the mist passes.

“If you never remain, how do you know where love is?”

He replies briefly. “Love asks us to become.”

The Ferryman looks and notices:

No footprints surround her.

The moss has climbed the stones beneath her,

worn smooth by her stance.

“Does it frighten you that your fire of faith may one day go out?”

“Fire does not become air. It simply remains unseen.”

“How would you escape the flames that never sink?”

“Even on the cold earth, the sun still burns beyond the horizon.”

A nimbus shadows the mountain

The Ferryman’s oars slip from their rhythm.

Yet the boat remains perfectly still beneath him,

as though it already knew where his feet belonged.

The Lady turns to the mountains.

“The mountain that never remains cannot shelter anyone.”

The Ferryman turns to the water.

“The river that no longer moves becomes a mirror.”

The clouds slowly pass.

The sun shines on the river.

Glistering around the boat with quiet elegance.

The woman’s face brightens as she stares.

Neither spoke.

He turns to the sun.

“The sun that does not set, cannot rise or change seasons.”

She turns to the sky.

“The sun must remain in order to rise again.”

The Lady asks The Ferryman quietly.

“When was the last time you remained anywhere long enough to recognise yourself?”

With silence he gazes upon his face reflected in the limpet green waters.

He drops a rose from his boat onto his reflection to make the water move.

A gentle breath of wind moves the tender petals.

The scented wind caresses her face.

She smiles but her body remains still.

“This scent is beautiful, I almost trusted my own senses.”

He turns to the distant trees.

“The tree that cannot shed its leaves withers.”

She looks to his boat.

“The Ferryman who cannot remain, has no home.”

Silence settles as the wind brushes the still water.

His thoughts deepen enough to reshape remembrance.

The sky turns to twilight, the moon becoming visible.

Both oars move in opposition, yet in unity.

“Do rivers remember the water that departed them?”

“No!” The Ferryman replies with softened assertion.

For a moment only the creaking of the oars could be heard.

He turns. “Yet every drop conditions the river that follows.”

She reaches for a coin in her pocket.

“Take this before you continue rowing onwards.”

The river regains its tension as he reaches over.

She loosened her hands for a moment in offering.

He accepts the coin and the boat drifts from the shore.

His first stroke resists the water.

The next surrenders to its rhythm.

The petals fly by once more.

He turns the coin in his hands.

A face.

He turns it over.

Another face.

He looks back. The Lady is smiling.

He smiles in return.

The mist begins to lighten.

He takes the coin and places it in his box.

Reflection:

Before explaining how this poem came to be and the philosophical lens behind it, I wanted to briefly introduce Heraclitus and Parmenides for anyone unfamiliar with them. If you already know who they are, feel free to skip to the next section. I promise not to tell them.

Both were Pre-Socratic philosophers. Heraclitus believed reality is in a constant process of change. This continual process is often called becoming, and for him it was fundamental to reality. Parmenides, however, argued almost the opposite. Reality is fundamentally unchanging, and what we experience as becoming is merely an illusion.

Heraclitus is my favourite Ancient Greek philosopher, and possibly one of my favourite philosophers of all time, and my own philosophy leans heavily in the spirit of his work. His imagery of becoming has become a cornerstone of how I live life. While exploring these ideas over recent times, however, I realised I do not fully reject Parmenides. If everything completely dissolves, continuity would die with it. It was this tension that inspired the poem.

Originally, I intended this piece to be little more than a conversation between the two philosophers in a Platonic style. Over time, that idea changed. I realised most people do not want to read a philosophical lecture disguised as poetry. So instead of letting Heraclitus and Parmenides speak directly, I created two people who live through their philosophical outlooks. Instead, I let them speak through rivers, mountains, fire, and the natural world. I hoped this would feel more human. Instead of the philosophy leading the poem, I wanted the imagery to do the work.

The Ferryman is an amalgamation of many archetypes, myths, and figures that have influenced the character. One of the biggest influences, however, was Heraclitus, so it felt natural for him to become the lens for those ideas to speak.

The Lady of Faith began as someone for Parmenides to speak through. Over time, though, she slowly became her own person. She slowly became less of a philosophical idea and more like a real person. Love, faith and devotion shaped her far more than philosophy did. People like Simone Weil certainly influenced her (another personally favourite philosopher of mine), but so did figures who remain faithful despite uncertainty. In the end, she became more than the ideas that inspired her.

Both characters represent different kinds of faith. I never wanted one to defeat the other or prove themselves right. I just wanted their beliefs to meet and challenge one another, without forcing an answer.

I'll leave you with one final question.

Is reality fundamentally becoming, or is it fundamentally unchanging?

Thank you for reading.