Tuesday, December 9, 2008


The clay in Your hand,
In Your mind a picture rears,
Clear and concise,
Detailed to the letter,
You begin to mix and mould,
With every stroke, You perfect,
Blemishes You correct,
Unwanted elements You remove,
You compare with the image in Your minds eye,
You step back and look,
More clay,
A squirt of water,
A flaw won’t correct,
You dissolve all of it and start again,
Patiently You craft,
Almost doesn’t count,
As You saw,
As You intended,
So it shall be,
A masterpiece You purposed,
A chef-d’oeurve I’ll be.


Nwa Chi said...

And our potter is not yet done. He is still in progress.

Oh so beautiful...

Jaycee said...

Whenever I think of God as a Potter, my mind gets blown away...to know that He molds my imperfections into perfection!

Permit me to feature this on my blog! :)

Telekinesys said...

@Nwa Chi, Work in progress, thank you.

@Jaycee,blows my mind too. Permission granted.

Rita said...

I like the pattern of your poems. How are you doing?

Avartsy said...

head on over for a bonus riddle...

Shubby Doo said...

i kinda of feel perfect...despite what i see as my flaws to God i am perfect

Telekinesys said...

@Rita,thanks, i'm good and u?


@shubby doo,true in His eyes we were perfect from day one.

Anonymous said...

Too Beautiful!!
I love..x

Telekinesys said...

@riri, thanks