Yet I am SEEN.
No longer invisible, I feel naked, caught out, trapped in a puzzling prison of holy light and expectation. Every fiber of my being longs to flee, but my shoes are worn, full of raggedy holes, and my graceless feet are tender. If I could fly, whither could I go from where You are?
No longer invisible, I feel naked, caught out, trapped in a puzzling prison of holy light and expectation. Every fiber of my being longs to flee, but my shoes are worn, full of raggedy holes, and my graceless feet are tender. If I could fly, whither could I go from where You are?
I am dust, my Liege. Why do you see me? Since You are everywhere and see
everything, why do You hold me close?
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