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Acts of Faith

Each day begins as an act of faith.
We cross our thresholds and expect
That no cruel twist of fate
Will stay us from returning.

But the twists await us in their careless abundance,
And well we know, in our hearts, that one day
There'll be no more coming home again.

For many it goes this way with love.
Love parts, returns, then parts again
Through all the shifts and flux of living,
Oftentimes traveling a little farther out,
Returning a little later
With every passing day, until one day, almost unnoticed
It comes not home at all.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2007




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