The glass is stained and dark

Green yellow red and blue

Colours and shades

But can I see?

Can I see me, properly and clearly?

I look again, its broken.

My outline and reflection are complete, however, what I see is fragmented.

I was made


Even though I see fragments

The pieces of my life work together,

Though all I see is pieces.

Who stained the glass?

Who shattered the glass?

Did I shatter it?

So as not to be able to see?

Or was it because I was angry?

Who shattered my glass?

Was it me?

Who sees me? God.

He has an un-shattered glass

And no one can break it.

Gods glass was pre-made to

set me apart

He has a vision of me so clear

He cannot lose it, His glass is always clean and unspotted

And through the glass He looks with eyes of love and compassion

He really does love to look, for I am am called the apple of His eye.

I dont have to say –

Look at Me!

Notice Me!

Say something to me!

Because Hes already done so

I only have to recognize and listen

To catch His drift.