Poem about Imperfection
"My sweet child,
My sweeter child,
My sweetest child,
When you come to see Me,
I never ask you to tell Me
What others are doing wrong.
I do not ask you to tell Me
Even what you are doing wrong.
I immediately ask you to tell Me
What you are doing right,
And in how many ways
You are trying to please Me.
My sweet child,
My sweeter child,
My sweetest child,
It does not become you
To see others'
Teeming imperfections.
I am constantly dreaming
In and through you
To make you
My Eternity's
Absolutely perfect instrument.
Please fulfil My Dream,
My long-cherished Dream,
My only Dream!"
From: My Soul is Free
