In the patterned cloths of upbringing, thread by thread, we’re often bound,
In the whispers of our households, where unspoken truths resound.
As we navigate existence, political views are often found,
Yet they never tell the whole of who we are, nor where we’re bound.

They ask me, with their puzzled gaze, my kinfolk, dear, and close,
Why the margins of society are whom I chose to engross.
Is it not the script they handed me, the role they presuppose?
Yet the heart knows no direction, no path pre-decreed it knows.

Born in the cradle of privilege, where abundance freely flows,
Now I find myself grappling with the sting of life’s throes.
Yet, it’s not an end, but a beginning, as the river ever flows,
For from the tribulations, a deeper understanding grows.

Why do I stand for those overlooked, cast aside, left to repose?
Can it be traced back to the love that within me arose,
When I realized I’m Queer, with the challenges it bestows?
Or is it born of Christ’s love, that like a beacon glows?

See, faith isn’t always mapped by socio-economic scales,
Or the color of your skin, or in whom your heart entails.
Faith is not a function of the wind that fills your sails,
But a beacon in the tempest, when all other light pales.

Yes, I’ve been shackled by the system, known the cold of iron rails,
But from the valley of despair, a phoenix always hales.
The lowest points in life often make the grandest tales,
For it’s there we find our strength, and it’s there true faith prevails.

So, my dear perplexed family, let not your vision narrow,
I am not a product of your blueprint, nor your shadow.
Not politics, nor culture, nor our status high or low,
Can define the depth of faith within us, or the compassion we can show.

Being Queer is not my faith, it’s just a part of me,
Like the wind is to the sky, or the tide is to the sea.
Yes, it shapes my world, my voice, the prism through which I see,
But my faith, it is much grander, for it binds all that is free.

The marginalized, the forgotten, they’re no cause for my affray,
But they are the children of a God, who loves in equal array.
The Christ who showed compassion, who sought the lost, the astray,
That is the faith I carry, the path I chose to assay.

So, listen not to the echoes of the world that often stray,
Your faith is not a mere reflection of your yesterday.
It’s a living, breathing testament to the love that’s here to stay,
In your heart, in every heartbeat, every night, and every day.