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

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