I call to skies where no reply is heard,
The winds return my questions, cold and bare;
Each empty hour weighs heavier than a word,
And doubts arise where once was steady prayer.
Yet in the hush, a quiet strength takes hold,
A trust that blossoms though the heavens wait;
Faith walks alone, yet fearless, firm, and bold,
Believing still, though answers come too late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem