leaves

The shadow of fluttering leaves
On hardwood floor, suggesting
Light. That Light that one, who believes,
Can see with eyes closed, requesting
Nothing of proof.

But there are times
When even believers wonder...
Is our God always free of crimes?
Is he conscious of a blunder?
Does he care how much pain is caused,
Hope vanquished; not what we intend?
Another's breathing has been paused;
Life before it's begun must end.

Like startled sparlings taking flight;
Answers we may never know.
Only faith in the Source of light
That leaves' shimmering shadows show.