the palette of your wisdom colors every moment of each day.
as mysterious gifts we somehow deserve.
And when the dark pigments of sin intrude, we call out to you, O Lord.
but with the coming of pain, how freely we blame you.
And in our joys how boldly we forget you.
Are we really so free as we think?
Or are we bound by pleasure and our hatred of pain?
with forms, shapes, and shades of multiple hues.
and of faith in the face of change and directed chance.