I imagine what went into our moulding and shaping
Your loving attention to each one of us
at the moment of making.
I see careful fingers divinely poised
over the infant frame -
Folding protein, furling DNA,
Planning our potential, numbering our days,
Breathing sacred breath into receptive clay.
Yes, I will praise You,
for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Talitha Mathew, 2023
With kind permission from Talitha, a member of the ‘Companions of the Holy Cross’ newsletter for whom she wrote this poem.
The Ladies Loop 