Saturday, April 28, 2012
We say strong faith "moves mountains",
Alters the course of rivers
And sets multitudes ablaze
Yet faith is fragile...like a flame
It must be guarded, if it would grow.
Faith is dependent like a branch
Attached to a vine to be sustained
It cannot yield its fruit alone.
It thrives in the desert and the dark;
Grows in solitude and sufficiency
Defiant and proudly on its own.
Doubt invades the crumbling conscience,
Of a cynical, spectating crowd
And silently erodes will to won't.
That's because Faith is alive.
Doubt is dead.
And living things take work.
Dead ones don't.
Our Sunday Scribblings Prompt was "Storm".