In fragile faith, With the tenacious audacity of hope, All is not as it seems.
A veil, like winter's fog, separates the divine from mortal flesh, Concealing sights and sounds from our view, We remain unable to see, Unable to hear.
We cannot witness that which enchants, Nor can we hear the sweet melodies of divine grace. The enchanted, embittered, The blessed, barren.
In delicate faith, With the resolute audacity of hope, All is not as it seems.
The heart, the soul, Our inner being Harbors a restlessness, a divine spark, An indwelling. A signpost, Guiding beyond the fog to the breaking of the day.
In Advent faith, With the relentless audacity of hope, All is not as it seems.
Swales, Advent 2023