In shadows where we seldom peer, A spark resides, a light sincere. Not all may wear the saintly shroud, Yet within the flawed, goodness is endowed. We cast our judgments, quick, unwise, Blind to the tales behind their eyes. For saints, too, walked the sinner's road, And sinners bear tomorrow's hope bestowed. Through blameless eyes, we start to see, A dance of past and yet-to-be. In every heart, though trials brim, A touch of grace, a chance to dream.