By Brooke Wickline
you don’t see what i see.
reflections show what i hide;
eyes strain over lumps,
hands scrape across scars
tracing jagged & rough lines
whose shapes alter as the sun declines.
abnormalities scour my frame
tucked away in a facade of shame.
you don’t see what i see
Beloved, you do not see what I see.
before Me, in darkness, I melded you together
cultivated in My likeness;
fearfully & remarkably composed.
as streams curve & mountaintops descend,
so your flesh rounds;
as brilliant stars light the sky,
so blemishes sprinkle your skin.
many may see a coarse and battered stone
encircled in jagged edges.
but My Treasure,
there lie glittering hues gleaming unaware,
a heart with beauty beyond compare.
Cherished, you don’t see what I see
precious is your heart
of greater value than gold.
seek Me in glowing splendor
& truth will behold.
I tell you the truth
My Child, you do not see what I see,
but how I long for you to agree.
Brooke Wickline is pursuing a BA of Writing with a minor in Visual Arts from Point Loma Nazarene University (USA). In her writing, she depicts Christ's creation and teachings through her use of imagery to emphasize the small beauties in life and the reimagining of scripture. When she isn't welding a pen, she likes to read comic books, draw, or take care of her many plants.