Next to impossible to convince...

Devoid the faculty to trust.

To have been this way forever since...

Yet, hoping to trample his doubts into dust.

Finding it so irrefutably hard to believe...

In a Grand Design of which he remained naive.

Intellectually, if not intentionally unaware...

Of the truth he knew must still be there.

Not wanting to be confused with the facts...

But not wanting ever to be looking back.

Not wanting to count himself an 'unbeliever'...

Yet refusing to be a wide open receiver.

Until the day he saw the nailed imprints...

He had all but set his forehead like flint.

Appearing suddenly, He who was born amongst men...

A show of hands to the one doubting again.

"Look! Thomas! And know surely what it means...

Faith is the substance of things hoped for...

Of things not seen."