Old Man in a Bean Bag Chair

Faith is trust based on a want—
Close to need—to trust, facts be
Damned, here in this case, for now.

We don’t need faith, but we want
Trust—we want to trust so much.
Now and then, when we can’t trust,

Have no cause to trust, we choose
Faith, just so that we can trust.
We clear a space in our heads,

A sort of nest for trust, just
In this or that, not too much.
Here we will have faith, we think,

And then we shut our eyes tight
And fall back. It’s like that breath
You let out that feels so good

In the chest. It’s like the end
Of a day fell on the bed
And wept. It might kill us, but

Faith’s the last chance left to trust,
And so we swoon. Just this once.
Some fate will be kind to us.