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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1232630
Compared to the greater picture we are so minute
A CUP OF GOLD

It was intended from the beginning that I was a cup;
A cup, before cups were a concept; a cup for the Master's use.
And he did fill me.

In love he drew me from the land.
Clasped and shaped me within His gentle hand;
Then broke me, only to reshape me.

Many times I was broken.
Each time more injurious than the time before.
I really wanted to be a plate, a mere glass.
Until at last I discovered, they break too.
From the beginning I was meant to be a cup;
A perfect cup for the Master's use….
That He would fill me.
© Copyright 2007 John T NightOwl (jt2jawjr at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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