You made us hopeful, LORD; where is your Hope
when every lovely Rainbow bright and chill
reflects your Will?
You made us artful, LORD; where is your Art,
as we connive our way to easeful death:
sad waste of Breath!
You made us needful, LORD; what is your Need,
when all desire lies in imperfection?
What Dejection
could make You think of us? How can I know
the God who dreamed foul me and this bright Rainbow?
I made you hopeful, child. I am your Hope,
for every fiber of your spirit, Mine,
with all its longing, longs to be Divine.
Originally published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea
