This is faith.
We are always looking into the past: even a mirror.
The you turning in a shaft of light, shirttails unfurled
like bird wings caught in the shudder of surprise.
The you so free, so full of joy. Even that you
is in the past as you see you. Even as you dance
through the motes of radianting through you,
you have lost it. Yet we keep dancing.
The mended chair is already mended before we break it.
- Chris Albani