Knowledge and Belief

Dear father, I still remember most things 
      I was taught as a child: that leaves pressed
between the pages of a book can sometimes keep 
      a little of their green, that veins are blue 
only because of the way light illuminates skin.
      I know the language of a power of attorney,
which is meant to designate to another or others
      the things one is for some reason unable to do.
Matters of belief are a different question: and you
      were of a generation that didn't draw up wills
for fear that doing so would hasten their death.  
      I no longer cross myself before leaving home,
though I'll retreat into a nave of quiet where a voice 
      only I can hear prostrates itself on the floor.