Re-create me, oh God, in your drenched image again and again
for as long as it takes. Daily like a sun rising before the eyes of the moon. I feel loved as the old me, partaker of the dirty ground,
but only as I flap new wings. I will forget how long I have wasted and how long you have waited on me. There are no broken paths ahead or behind as your Grace transforms, but I will recall the tripping and the bleeding: a dull idea that might torment me were it not for your re-joining and rejoicing.
This one caveat that is too beautiful to believe–You never let go of me.
I reach with wriggling eyes into my own heart: clean!