Faith rises like a wave,
That carries out my nave,
But the Almighty mocks —
Crashes it on the rocks.
Yet from the wreck, I learn
A different, stark concern:
Not for a gentle guide,
But for the raging tide.
Light completely burns my mind.
It makes me almost blind,
But in this scorching night,
I find a different sight.
Rage that breaks the mast's,
The only power that lasts.
No more to beg or plead,
I am the tide I need.
The wave of faith
© Copyright: Виола Эллерт, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125120800350
Свидетельство о публикации №125120800350
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