1. I have not seen, how am I to believe? My eyes have never marked the risen Christ. Is one to trust the stories others tell, God raising up what has been sacrificed? 2. I have not felt his hands, stone cold, grow warm, nor heard that heart, once silenced, beat again, yet here I am, surrounded by a faith that apprehends his presence now as then. 3. We hope for signs, but in the end must trust that risen Life, arising, surely weaves with faith and doubt alike a living truth that blesses all who question to believe. From Songs for the Cycle ©2004 by Michael Hudson. Church Publishing Incorporated. All rights reserved. Used by permission.