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For Crippled Things 
Once I turned from thee and hid. 
   Gerald Manley Hopkins 
Glory be to God for crippled things- 
   For minds as sharp as cracked concrete; 
     For flab that sags, for joints and thoughts that will not come unstuck;
Forgotten lessons, wisdom... what? Nothing. 
   Growths that thrive and work left incomplete; 
     All legs grow fired, all clocks their hands grow stuck. 
All things imperfect, asymmetric, strange; 
  Whatever is transient, moaning, full aware that they're meat; 
     Lost pieces of walk talk see hear laugh run good luck; 
He must love the lame-he made us in so wide a range; 
  we are his joy, his music all we sing; 
     Our praise is in our flux. 
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