My faith is like a restless dog at dawn:
it wakes and drags me, shaking off the haze
of dreams to see the earth before it's gone.
And then we walk through strange and friendly ways.
For surely something more must come of life
than fleshy pleasure: bread and clothes and rest.
An act that's grander, kinder, something rife
with friendship, care, and making others blessed.
With this bright hope we search, my faith and I,
to find that love, a little here and there:
In whispered words, reflected rays, we try
to see the mighty arm of God laid bare.
Weep not for Zion, though its name and place be fled
but seek it early: bind yourself to quick and dead.