Faith
Cocooned in your soft blanket of self-imposed thought.
Trapped by your passion, controlled by your heart.
Belief is not just words written in a musty text. It lives
In every sentence you cry with upheld dignity.
Pride pulsates through your veins, oozing through
The wounds in your feet and hands like a halo
Of love and strength. Few can see what you believe,
Few can believe what you see. Your heart beats
With a stubborn meaning that not all understand,
Yet everyone admires. A deep pool of gratitude and hope.
Your heart speaks with a clarity of tongue even
Saints could not possess. For there are those who
Die for their faith, and there are those who live for it.
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IMAGE: Mom & Child by Isobel T
