Imagine
The hands of God
Cradling
Holding
Relishing the beauty of her creation.
The scars,
the bumps,
the open wounds
the bits and pieces of shattered dreams,
of fragmented existence
Notwithstanding.
Imagine
The hands of God
Salvaging
Re-creating
Redeeming
the wreckage
the mess
the broken
the pain-filled and pitiful creatures
Unconditionally.
Imagine
The hands of God
In the evening.
In the morning.
It is good.
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