Paradise Found

I lie upon the breast of God,
My hand atop His heart.
His arms encircle me
And draw me close
And I know I am safe.

His breath is warm upon me,
His heart beats loud and strong.
Although I cannot see,
Though mortality impairs my sight,
I know He is there
And mine
As much as I am His.

He looks at me with favor;
I can tell it by His eyes.
But I am not deserving.
Why does He cradle me so?
Does not my impure body
Burn the skin of One so pure?

I know I am not perfect,
Please don't tell me that I am.
Your words delight mortal ears,
But my soul can't accept the lie.

My God knows my faults;
He sees them everyday.
Each time I lie, I hurt, I hate;
Each time my heart seeks its goals,
Or longs, or yearns for something more;
Each time I fail to speak,
He knows.

Why, then, am I still held?

I crouch in darkness,
Imperfect demon.
I like Peter deny.
The cock crows; I know my deed.
I guess that's how I got here.

Nobody's perfect.
That's the bush we hide behind
When found bare in the Garden.
Nobody's perfect.

But in my God's arms,
As, suddenly, my burdens disappear,
I don't feel imperfect.
I look into my Father's eyes
And know:
This is Paradise.