Speck of dust

A speck of dust in a church
Whispered so quietly
It could hardly hear itself:
I do not speak in tongues
I am not talkative as such
I am not the life and soul
Nor do I hold court
Nor even make a good jester.
The stained glass window replied:
Be sure in the magic of Love
Be confident in Her art
The genius inside you
Has more colour than a rainbow.
She shall create through you.