imago dei

there is a tiny god

on the wall. winged

ephemeral, soft thing.

with a finger pad you

might end its life. so

fragile the space

between human and

divine. so alive so

visible you might miss

it with your worn

weathered eyes.

this morning on

the wall, this tiny wing

this dust covered life

says with its perfectly

formed body: you are here.

I am here. stay with

how small the moment

feels. stay with the

splendour of meeting.

let your heart break

over it. let your heart

break over the times

you missed seeing.

let it break. and trust

the mending will come

in moments like this

the next time

you face god.