They thought the story ended there,
When hope felt thin and prayers were rare.
They closed the door, walked past the pain
Yet morning whispered grace again.
Some trade in fear on evening news,
Yet kindness still breaks through the blues.
Though anger shouts and nations strain,
Peace plants small seeds in soaked-through rain.
We flash our titles, prove we’re right,
Forget Who gives both breath and sight.
We read, we reason, climb and strive
Yet love is how the soul survives.
Tomorrow hides behind today,
And lessons come in quiet ways.
So walk in faith when paths feel dim
Each step still rests in trust of Him.
MARYANN BOSAH 