I long to have faith like those of old,
Following the Way marked out
By the words in red and actions
Of black bound on my heart.
Being faithful is openly narrow.
There is no room to move,
Right or left is not an option,
Only ahead, for behind is death.
The old faith is a lot like other faith,
But foundationally different.
God came to us as a man
To help man understand God
As only He could explain.
Law was fulfilled in death,
Death was fulfilled in life,
Life is fulfilled in love.
The object of this faith is not
Of this world or really the next,
But only of Him who created both and
Waits, prepares, guides, hopes
For man to finally understand
What God has been saying in every
Birth, life, love, death
That happens each second of the day.
We have taken the wide road
And are running out of food and water,
At least the kind that quenches
And nourishes the souls of the weary
And dying without sustenance or hope.
Empty words are an endless desert
If they are not vindicated with action.