But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.
A friend creates art of astonishing power,
Yet questions whether she is even good.
A friend asks questions with clarity and grace,
Yet resists accepting his intellect.
We are told we are hospitable.
But most parties end with feelings of failure.
Why is it so hard to own our gifts?
Do we fear to grasp a clear expression of God?
No comments:
Post a Comment