Faith 1988 Poem by Andrew Fincham

'There but for the grace of God
Go I'
Said the saint to the sinner
As he caught the deamon’s eye.

But the chanted never mattered
For before the dawn came upward

there
was
a

feeling that beyond them lay
a mystery of longing that was
better left unsaid.

In the hope of new tomorrow:

Never bringing up the distance
Of the place they're not for reaching -
Or the magic (times encountered)
That one day
Might be compelling.