In the quiet of the night,
When shadows stretch and stars take flight,
A whisper stirs, soft and low,
A gentle nudge, a warming glow.
It speaks of paths unseen,
Of dreams that live in the in-between,
Of hands that guide when hope feels thin,
And light that shines from deep within.
Faith is not a roaring flame,
But a spark that calls your name.
Itβs the courage to believe,
When the world is hard to conceive.
Itβs the seed beneath the snow,
The promise that it yet will grow.
Itβs the breath before the leap,
The calm within the stormy deep.
Whispers of faith, they come and go,
Like tides that ebb, like winds that blow.
They remind us we are not alone,
That even stones can find a home.
So listen close, in the still and small,
For faith is there, through it all.
A quiet voice, a steady thread,
Guiding you where you are led.