about the way the moon rises
over cold snow, night after night,
faithful even as it fades from fullness,
slowly becoming that last curving and impossible
sliver of light before the final darkness.
But I have no faith myself.
I refuse it even 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.
(glimpsed in Fish! A Remarkable Way to Boost Morale and Improve Results because of David Whyte's tour of corporate America based on his book The Heart Aroused : Poetry and the Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America.)