To love before time, before

death smiled with numb eyes,

and to believe forevermore

that dawn comes, that the sun will rise.

I call this my faith, Jesus,

and with it a breath, a sense

that you do not leave us

even when we leave our innocence.

For I am not the child I was.

I am not the song in my mother’s womb

that danced for life just because

to laugh is to love, to smile to bloom.

No, I am far from that now,

and you know all too well

the sweat that stains my brow,

the sleepless nights, the waking hell.

But still there you are

even now as I shake out more words.

And knowing this, I seek your star

which calls to the night’s birds

when it seems there is nothing left that can fly.

But you are there, flying, you are there.

I will rest because you will not die.

And neither will this prayer.