Wanderings, like skipping stones
  each one skidding across the top
Then sink, deep down in, truth
  discovered amidst the surface
Dear friends gathered, fears spoken
  are we ever good enough?
Doesn't God love us right where
  we are at and not in dreams
Fulfillment is just being us
  not some goal of the mind
God's love exists, holding all
  no run to the end, no rejection
Maybe this is judgment, where our
  own expectations, our own failings
Are evaluated by ourselves and maybe
  what could have been, surprises
Yet we are Gold's, we are earth
  we return to dust, recreation