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?
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