I am grateful,
there is space
to be perfect, yet flawed
And as humility is often illusive
I vacillate between my inheritance
and my reality
Part of the Family…
Yet alone…
As only Child
I roam
among the distractions
of the world and all
that it implies….
But somewhere I hear the whisper
the call
My Grace…
My Grace….
It is all that you need
And at once I am back before him
perfect, yet flawed.
