@dusk

If I ever doubted
there was anything beyond
this skin of mine

dusk
would correct me.

I close my eyes
as the day slips
into dark

and somehow
it feels like faith.

Not the kind
I have to defend.

Not the kind
that needs to win
an argument.

Just this—

the light leaving
without fear

the trees accepting
their shadows

the sky turning
soft and bruised

right above me.

I am not here
to argue
with science.

Let the scholars
name the light.

Let them explain
the bend of it

the earth turning

the sun lowering
by law and distance.

I believe them.

But I am here
for the One
who created science

the One
who gave light
its obedience

who taught the earth
how to turn

who placed dusk
between day and night

like a veil
thin enough
for faith
to pass through.

Because if God gave me
the capacity to love

to carry someone
inside my chest

without proof
without promise

without knowing
if they will ever
hold me the same way

then He must have given me
the capacity
to believe

without becoming cynical.

Because love itself
is already faith.

I cannot measure it.

I cannot hold it
in my hand.

I cannot explain
why one voice
can move through me

and suddenly
I am no longer
just skin and bone.

So I sit outside
on the porch

with my eyes closed

feeling the evening
touch my face

like God
is near.

And I refuse
to become so clever

that I forget
how to be grateful.

I refuse
to let this world
turn wonder
into shame.

The day surrenders
to night

without fear.

The trees accept
their shadows.

The last gold
leaves the sky

and still
nothing is lost.

Only returned.

Only held
by something
larger than me.

I breathe there

under a sky
that does not ask me
to understand it

only witness.

And I do.

I witness.

The day
becoming night.

The dark
becoming mercy.

God
becoming near.

And maybe
that is enough
for me.

To love.

To believe.

To close my eyes
as the day disappears

and feel faith
rise in me

without apology.