Who Are We

we are the imperfect children,
made in the image only,
toiling with our incomplete,
broken perception
of the yearning of creation.

Gray Poet

Sunset

Who are we to think that we
Can look at a sunset and pause
Yet we see flooding torrents
And look to God as the cause.

Who are we to think that we
Can do as we wish with the land
Then we see ills striking friends
And ask if it came from God’s hand.

Who are we to think that we
Can get away with whatever we say
Not a thought given through the week
And maybe worship God on just one day.

Who are we to think that we
Can make the world a better place
Bending even the natural laws
And fearing now to even bow our face.

Who are we to think that we
Can stop lifting our eyes above
Giving little of our self in return
And take advantage of God’s love.

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