The faintest of hopes
Not a trace of faith my first stumbling steps,
only the faintest of hopes, so I built,
upon reasonable assumptions, a patchwork,
uninspired view and crowned it my faith.
I grew dependent upon it, as it bloomed
and evolved – longing to live by it,
not to die without it – a living, working faith
that proves itself each day, as it eclipses all else,
even the ultimate goal and always turning back
my attention to the path and to my Companion,
every step a communion with that One
Who first provoked within me
this marvelous, almost hopeless,
fanciful and once faithless quest.
O child of God, while you were busy searching for God,
He’s been methodically preparing the way for your return.
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