THE FACE OF FAITH

Jeffrey Huang

On the many-sided die, I focus on specific faces. My mind remains filled with desperate traces. Scribbles in shades of black As if the Spirit provided no truth nor slack. My brain bursts at the seams With my own dreams. I plan my time But fail to rhyme Rhythm with reason And activities to the season.

The mystery is that Scripture provides seeds of faith. When I feel the wraith Of missed chances and ghosts of joys, I plant the seeds that God employs. I relax since he sees my thoughts. I discern the truth when he connects the dots.