The Believer

I was rushing back home on a rainy night,
hoping my dad won't start another fight,
and then I see someone so different,
than the others around her.

She was standing in front of the gates,
head down and legs straight,
hands joined together, hair falling on her face,
like time just stopped for her.

Humble must be the soul who prays alone after the mass,
maybe she didn't want to show her faith,
maybe she was the introvert kind,
maybe she knows that if there is a God,
he doesn't only listen to the sound of carols in a gathering.

I hope she gets what she asked for,
I think she will,
it is no common person who can,
think of the Creator when alone,
it is a believer,
sometimes I wonder how it would be,
if we all were believers,
and not like those who are like the sheep,
that follow the blind shepherd,
for what most of us think of God is like a blind man,
otherwise we won't shout but whisper from within,
because if there is a God,
he can see through your soul,
he can hear the softest whisper in your heart,
we just need to believe.