politicians, with
tongues as sharp as shards of glass
ugly reflected

what I ask of God
rarely matches what He gives
but this is His plan

a ray of sunshine
melts my heart and warms the cold
places and I thaw

what is reflected
as a softer, smudged palette
whispers peace and calm

special treasures to
remind me of Kyoko
always close: my friend

wonderfully painted
an arm swooped from here to there
God's hand. God's eye. Art.

God is good, we say
when there's a rainbow after
the rain. God is good.