I see faith tied on wrists. Dangling by last threads through branches. Sometimes stepped over by people who hardly seem to notice it lying on the ground – bare and exposed. Vulnerable.
Faith also rests secure and covered up in well maintained and guarded chambers while the ones of our own kind sleep on the cobblestones.
Faith let’s me believe that my tears soaked in my cushions will one day hug me back and tear down the uncertainties. It would dissolve all conundrums welled inside of me.
Faith is a powerful tool, used illogically and untamed, most times. And let loose, it, if, spits venom, shoots fire and is capable of destroying all humanity that dangles by the last strand of thread and sleeps in peace. At least for tonight.
I tied my faith to a lattice frame.