faith flickers like a tired bulb,
prayer hums, a wire stretched taut.
hands move, reaching for the switch,
but the room stays dark, hollow.
service is the hand that grips,
the unseen surge humming, alive.
a connection sparking beneath skin,
current steady, sent through miles.
without action, there\'s no lightning,
no warmth crackling in the veins.
movements of purpose ignite glow,
a flood of light, purposeful folly.
God watches, a silent powerhouse,
waiting for hands to close gaps,
to let loose the energy buzzing,
to press the switch that saves.