…
Faith
Faith is our mate alone,
Searching for an eastward light,
Straining for the whistle’s moan
Certainties in the dead of night.
Faith is the harbor rounded,
Beyond the roiling, last long beat,
A solid hull the seas have pounded,
Soon, soon, our sail’s complete.
Faith is the ember’s fire,
Alight in windows from ashore,
The single steeple spire,
An open hearth beyond the door.
Faith may be a simple thing,
A tune you knew from birth to sing,
Or hard-gained through blinding snow,
It does not matter how you know.
*borrowed from one of my favorite photographer’s, Peter Ralston