Hidden: A Reflection on Isaiah 41

Like tears on the cheeks

Of this great river,

Your tents shine

With rainbows of color

In the early light

Of a frosty morn.

You are the forgotten.

Among the leafless willows,

Your poor cry out for good food.

On an icy marsh,

Your homeless cry out for warmth.

But you are not forgotten.

“Everyone will see this.

No one can miss it.”