Faith

by David Whyte

I want to write about faith:

about the way the moon

rises over cold snow

night after night

Faithful

even in its fading from fullness

slowly becoming

that last curling and impossible

sliver of light

before the final darkness.

But I have no faith myself.

I do not give it the smallest entry.

Let this, then, my small poem

like a new moon

slender and barely open

be the first prayer

that opens me to faith.