On our own, the miracle of belief misses the bullseye.
Our arrogant eyes, religiously taking aim
at flesh, with log or spec setting
off truthâ€™s perfect course to the heart.
And nature reveals the gravity of our sinâ€”friction
setting law against law,
pulling faith to the ground.
Words fail to hit their aim; faulty
and misshapen byÂ the stiff spine ofÂ intent,
but, flexing improves our accuracy.
And three fletching feathers (love, faith, and hope)
gives the necessary rotation
So that life doesnâ€™t plane out of control.
And the word hits its mark every time.
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