Doubting Thomas
Created by

Doubting Thomas

Style Used
This Caravaggio realism Baroque art style brings street reality to religious scenes. Using common models, dirty feet, and unflinching observation, it transforms sacred stories into gritty contemporary dramas.

See More

Doubting Thomas
Doubting Thomas
Out where the river runs wild and free
and only the brave dare row;
where the rapids are deep, and the challenge is fresh
and it takes them where it means to go.
With breakneck speed, grinning into the wind,
standing straight on the bow of their craft,
just a glimpse now and then of those captains you’ll catch
flying by, near capsizing your raft.

They’ve no time for advice to those standing on shore
or to aid the ones just wading out,
for their task is to pilot this current, they think,
and it’s all they can do to stay out of the drink,
and their lives could be gone in the space of a wink
should they lose but a moment to doubt.
Standing tall, they never must doubt!
Out where the river runs wild and free
and only the brave dare row;
where the rapids are deep, and the challenge is fresh
and it takes them where it means to go.
With breakneck speed, grinning into the wind,
standing straight on the bow of their craft,
just a glimpse now and then of those captains you’ll catch
flying by, near capsizing your raft.

They’ve no time for advice to those standing on shore
or to aid the ones just wading out,
for their task is to pilot this current, they think,
and it’s all they can do to stay out of the drink,
and their lives could be gone in the space of a wink
should they lose but a moment to doubt.
Standing tall, they never must doubt!
Trees are always trying to reach the sky;
arms stretched out toward heaven
‘til their leaves turn brown and die.
Then will come the winter,
when they stand the icy wind.
waiting for the sun to shine
and spring to come again.

The drama’s reinacted every year:
Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear.
While on the ground, the winter passes by,
every tree keeps reaching to the sky.
Trees are always trying to reach the sky;
arms stretched out toward heaven
‘til their leaves turn brown and die.
Then will come the winter,
when they stand the icy wind.
waiting for the sun to shine
and spring to come again.

The drama’s reinacted every year:
Leaves come down like clouds of doubt and fear.
While on the ground, the winter passes by,
every tree keeps reaching to the sky.