Life's mysteries each come with reason,
Blooming only when they reach perfect season.
Tragedies often spring blessings,
Yet impatiently, we as humans keep guessing.
We claim to have faith,
Yet most have not a clue.
It's something you just know,
That holds us together like glue.
Without it, we can only see the end near,
Not an ounce of strength, or an inch of hope.
With faith...There's comfort and peace,
Which allows us to grasp on to a burning rope.
Faith is what you have left,
When everything else disappears.
You can depend on it to be there
During the fear of all fears.
Don't expect it to announce itself,
It's not something we have inside.
It's something we few experience,
Which then find it hard to hide.
You'll know when you need it,
For this is the "Faith" I sharingly speak of.
You'll desperately pour your heart out to God,
Setting miracles in motion from high above.
