I am enveloped by your sweetness
as when a fog cloaks my skin and
fills my lungs with its cool silence;
I am a pebble lost in the fog, a chip
of stonework fallen and forgotten,
but for your keen eye and ingenuity;
I am a tile reimagined and reused
for the beauty of the whole, a flash
of indulgence like violet in a hay field;
I am the fleck of a purple star there
within the golden sunrise; and you —
you O God have believed me here!
on Psalm 8:3-4