You'll fit the frame
of the picture of love in my mind.
How openly you'll love,
those of us with closed hearts.

Spearhead of words,
you speak and cut through me deep.
The ends of love,
are so boundless. Love language universal.
Who calls us all, "your children",
but a father who wants to know us personal.

Frightened and feared,
from the many misdeeds I make.
Who am I,
to be worthy enough in your presence?
Still, with all my faults,
my mistakes and misfortunes
You love me anyway. Any day.

A child, glorious creation,
servant, of his chosen generation.
All that becomes so different in the world,
your very love is unchanging.

Love is your art,
a masterpiece of your nature.