Dearest child, love and joy of my Heart,
you are my masterpiece, precious and beloved,
and your life is a work of art within my hands.
It is progressing, day by day,
becoming more beautiful unceasingly,
for it is mine, entirely mine.
You may not be able to see the beauty now
but this is simply because
you do not have the Artist’s eyes.
But indeed even this I can give to you.
Only let me look on you,
let me gaze with these piercing eyes of love,
burning with tenderness and gentle delight.
I pay attention to every detail,
every last freckle, every slightest hair,
and not only do I create these in you, freely,
but as I mold and fashion, my Heart itself is touched
by this ceaseless contemplation
of the beauty I see in you.
I never want to turn my eyes away—
for you wound me, beloved, with love for you!
My Heart is drawn out to you,
whom I love so deeply,
as I consider every detail of who you are.
You are burdened with guilt and shame,
you feel inadequate, unworthy, a failure,
but I want you to know
—ah, yes, I desire so deeply for you to see!—
that this is not, my child, what I myself see.
When I gaze, I see all of your life
enfolded in Love’s embrace, and shining
as a single radiant mystery before my eyes,
yet each moment in profound, abundant depth.
Child…dearest child, my love…
you are looking for “something”
to at last make you enough for me,
but, don’t you see?
You are already enough;
you are the beloved of my Heart.
There is no need for you to keep trying
to climb this rugged stairway
as if you would attain to me
when you reach the top.
Rather, let your life flow, ceaselessly,
from the wellspring of my gift,
day by day, moment by moment,
as it springs always from my loving hands.
All I desire is that you receive, my child,
and live.


Return to Poetry