Ejected from mother’s womb into a world already underway and always changing.
I am object to others, a subject to my self-awareness.
Ambiguous–a directionless project whose trajectory is freedom.
Sometimes in abject poverty–without the resources to thrive.
Often dejected by failure.
But this conjecture holds true… the ground of all ethical activity is owning how I have fallen, interjecting hope into the hearts of those who, never rejecting me for being authentically who I am, bear witness to how Faith abides between friends.