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Vulpes | Poetry & shadows

@vulpes_ig

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Dreams. Shadows. Faith.
Poetry from the places we hide.
“Hold fast what is good.”
— 1 Thess 5:21
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Sometimes blasphemy is not hatred. Sometimes it is pain speaking in a language the Church forgot how to hear. This piece was born from conversations with people who stand far from church walls, but not always far from God. Some provoke Heaven because they hate it. But some provoke Heaven because they are still waiting for an answer. And maybe the first task of a Christian is not to win the argument, but to recognize the cry hidden inside the rebellion. “My God, why have You forsaken me?” — Psalm 22 Not every wound sounds polite. Not every prayer looks clean. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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5 months ago
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For some people, church is not the same kind of place as it is for everyone else. For many, it is more a place of sorrow, grief, and hope. A place where €5 or €10 carries far more weight than we might assume at first glance. Often, it is also a place of shame. Of a sanguine smile among the sincere smiles of joy on everyone else’s faces. Someone once told me: “God does not want beautiful pictures, but broken hearts.” These are our brothers. Our neighbours in the pews. Faces in the crowd. Looking into our eyes with shame — into the eyes of us, Christians. Someone may say: let us not be indifferent to them. I say: heroism is to be with them, beside them. And Christianity is to love them as ourselves. by @vulpes_ig
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5 months ago
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Not everything that matters most is spoken with the lips. Leave room for the whisper of eyes. — Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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5 months ago
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Why do kids from violent, addicted, broken homes so often end up on the street — and so rarely at our churches? Why do they know where to find drugs, gangs, strangers, and survival… but not where to find Christians? Why are we surprised when they choose the street, if the street feels more available than the Church? If a scared, angry, dirty, traumatized teenager walked into our church tonight and said: “I can’t go home. I’m hungry. I’m scared. Please help me.” Would we actually know what to do? Would we make space? Would we stay with them? Would we spend our money? Would we change our plans? Would we carry their mess with them? Or would we pray for them, give them a phone number, and go home? If the Church is supposed to be the hands and feet of Christ, then this question should bother us: Why do the most broken people so rarely think of us first? And I’m not asking this from above the Church. I’m asking it as part of it. Because if we want to call ourselves the body of Christ, then we should be willing to ask whether people in real pain would actually know where to find us. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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19 days ago
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The plan was simple: African food, good people, something different. Then the menu happened. Ostrich. Zebra. Crocodile. So obviously… crocodile. 🐊🤣 Six people around one table, everyone trying a piece, laughing, talking, discovering something new. That’s what I love about these evenings. You don’t need a huge plan. You just need good people, a place with character, and enough curiosity to try something you normally wouldn’t. Sometimes the best memories start with: “Why not?” ~ Vulpes taken in Ambiente Afrika Stuttgart by @vulpes_ig
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20 days ago
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Tonight two children came up to us and asked for food. They looked much younger than they actually were. She was 12. He was 8. We asked where their parents were. “Somewhere around here. Asking for help too.” So we took them to REWE. Bread. Sausages. Cheese. Shower gel. Toothpaste. Toothbrushes. Small things. Things most of us never even think about. At one point I asked the girl if they had a fridge at home. She looked at me and asked: “What is a fridge?” That sentence stayed with me. Ilia nearly cried when he realized they didn’t even have shampoo at home. And suddenly all the things we normally complain about felt embarrassingly small. We forgot to get any way to contact them. So now we’ll probably keep coming back on Saturdays, hoping we find them again. Not just to buy another bag of groceries. But maybe to cook something with them. Sit at a table. Eat together. Talk. Be present. Because charity should not always mean: “Here. Take this. Good luck.” Sometimes it should mean: “I’ll come back.” And maybe that is the difference between helping someone for one evening… and actually becoming part of the reason their life changes. “Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” — 1 John 3:18 ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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21 days ago
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Closeness without communication becomes confusion with good moments in between. Not every connection is a direction. Not every meaningful moment means something is being built. When words are missing, imagination begins writing the story for us. Choose reality over interpretation. Silence is information too. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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SILENCE Tell me how not to think, how to draw the details out, how to tear these sounds from within, the scent of air — of endings thinning out. Silence… It moves with the music of morning birds, through a city waking into form, through the cool of late summer, with the past still hanging, heavy and warm. My margin of safety — silence. Beyond the city, an escape from feeling, from all that keeps returning. Music. I gather fragments of the world around me. I write — but why? For whom? Poetry, though once I wanted something simpler, perhaps for a dream that never learned to bloom. Or maybe for that breath I take on the eve of the final night, held in the gaze of eyes washed gold, by lips that turn a whisper into light. Maybe silence will break into an aurora, into a moment already leaving. Maybe I will reach her. Maybe I will arrive too late. The clock keeps moving. Someone else may not wait. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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Love is not choosing the person who is always the most fun. It is not finding someone who never challenges you, never disagrees with you, and never gets on your nerves. Because eventually, everyone will. There will be seasons when you misunderstand each other. When you are tired. When one of you gets something wrong. When staying close requires more effort than walking away. And that is where character matters. Can they tell you the truth without trying to destroy you? Can they admit when they were wrong? Can you disagree and still respect each other? Can both of you choose to come back to the same table? Someone who always makes you laugh may be wonderful company. But the person worth building a life with may also be the one who challenges you, expects something from you, and makes you grow. Feelings matter. Chemistry matters. Fun matters. But none of them can carry a lifetime by themselves. Love is also a decision: I know you are imperfect. You know I am too. And when the difficult season comes, we will not immediately become enemies. Because chemistry can bring two people together. Character decides whether they can stay. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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MY HAPPINESS As a person, I value a quiet nature, full of little stories and quiet adventures. It means more to me than raw selfishness. So many unknown places, discovered by restless eyes, restless for peace and calm. What the world calls sadness, I call happiness. ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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Sometimes we can see the destination, but not the road. That thought came to me yesterday while I was walking after dark. Ahead of me, I could see a bridge lit by passing cars, but I could barely see the path beneath my feet. Still, I kept walking. No flashlight. No directions. Just my own pace — nine minutes per kilometer. And nothing happened. I didn’t trip. I didn’t fall. I didn’t even step in shit. How many of us, in moments like that, think more about the missing flashlight than the destination? How many of us can see something we want, maybe even long for it, but become afraid of one stupid misstep? Because the road isn’t visible. Because it isn’t illuminated. Because it’s the wrong time. Because… Insert your excuse here. Your fear. Your doubt. Your little reason to stop. Then look back and ask yourself: How many times did you stop? How many times did you turn around… when you might have been only a few steps away? ~ Vulpes by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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• PRISM • Like white light We split into colors, Words refracted Through everything we feel And everything we fight within. The distance still tears us apart, Like shadows beneath the skin, Ghosts of the past Hidden behind a perfect poker face. Breathtaking sunrises, Six years ago — or more. One final night. Two souls. Quiet words. Screaming hearts. One last hope — I wanted it to last. And never regret. Never. And never forget. Never. ~ Vulpes Written for SyliaN, many years ago. Some people leave fingerprints on everything we become, even when life takes us in different directions. This September, these words feel heavier. For the ones still here. by @vulpes_ig
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a month ago
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