He loved the one made in his image

Even when that was distorted,

Falling short of that glorious splendour

In the choices of new-found freedom.

He loved though the heart ached

As hopes for greater perfection

Had been dashed in the destruction

Of self-centredness inherited.

He loved through the difference

Of an evolving personality

Maturing from the genetic conglomerate

Of him and her exaggerated.

He loved though all seemed gone

In the tensions of true debate

Dissolving in their disagreement

Seeking some new way together.

He loved with a perpetual longing

For a discovered identity

Uncloned, unbound, unrestricted

Yet secure, conforming, growing.

He loved without condition

From the richness of a wounded heart

Surging in understanding, respect

And tender forgiveness.

May 1997

The Return of the Prodigal Son - Rembrandt