|
The Potter’s Hand
Once upon a time a unique vase
Was considered an artwork by all,
It was beautifully shaped, painted and
Exhibited against a decorative wall.
The finest materials were used
Carefully detailed by its master’s hands,
There it stood solemnly viewed
By every child, woman and man.
As years went by the unique vase
Was terribly damaged and set aside,
Its value and graceful beauty
Little by little was lost with time.
Its contact with the human touch
And its exposure to the elements of life,
Fiercely shattered the unique vase
Forgotten by its master, it was left behind.
In the silent city, one lonely cold night
Down a dirty street, a man came pulling a cart,
Collecting those things others threw away
He noticed something that lightened his heart.
It was a dirty, old and useless vase
Instantly he knew it was a work of art,
With loving care he took it home
And worked on it part by part.
The man skillfully started restoring the vase
In a way it would never be the same,
I understand this man is a potter
By the way, Jesus is his name.
As a child I would listen to fairy tales
But I need to say this story is true,
If you can believe this vase resembled me
Then, the Potter’s hand can also restore you.
By: Aida Rosado
|
