'How can this be? ' the old man said,
As shadows fell in the temple's light,
His voice was low, his heart was lead—
Would faith grow pale come the nearing night?
But Gabriel, bright with timeless grace,
Stood firm beneath the altar's flame,
'The Lord has heard you, face to face,
His promise lives, though you feel shame.'
Oh, doubt not power that moves unseen,
In darkness still, the seed is sown,
For even now, though skies may lean,
Your heart's small prayer becomes its own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem