a sequel of sorts to "motions"

Something Like Faith: Singed Flesh, Saving Grace  
How is joy?
Why is hope?
When is aspiration?
A sentient being am I.
Am I?
There is a magic I can't touch
I can't see
I can't feel
I can't even sense.
It's elusive
Like God.
But there is a form of belief.
Something like faith.
Even as faith becomes flawed,
Takes on flesh, and knows tangibility. 
Just...a word.
Yet a fire still burns.
So far below, no heat can be felt,
No smoke reaches the nose and the glow
Is muted, though distinctly present.
However unreachable.
The metaphors are related.
I promise.