My Faith

The question posed, as I scan my memory,

Is faith a breeze, or misery?

A gentle glide, a sunlit shore,

Or rocky path that wounds and sores?

I cannot claim a simple truth,

For ease escapes my callow youth,

And age still wrestles, heart and mind,

With doubts that linger, intertwined.

I can confess, in voice subdued,

I hold a faith, misunderstood

By those who see a sunlit way,

And cannot fathom my dismay.

It’s not a constant, burning light,

But flickers in the night.

It needs the tending of my soul,

To keep it burning, make it whole.

It’s not a shield against the storm,

But fragile hope to keep me warm.

It falters, breaks, then mends anew,

A testament to seeing through.

So easy faith? I cannot say,

But difficult? In truth, today,

I find it so. Yet, I believe,

And in that struggle, I receive.