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Poem "The Glory-Tempest"


stoeffler art studio poetry
 

As I take your Sovereign Hand

I am led into a violent storm

where I am almost

swept away into nothingness.

Almost.


Within the blinding tempest

I discover the gift

of chisel and mallet;

created for shaping,

placed here for testing.


As I take these instruments

I am given a choice;

to keep them within my own grasp

and carve an escape or raft or barrier

to control the disruption

brought on by the storm’s presence,

or I can place these tools into

the Love-Scarred Hands

of the One who designed and formed me,

the One who peers out

beyond this very present storm

into all that is necessary

for my transformation into a vessel

capable of bearing immense glory --

and I let Him choose

which must yield to the

blows of mallet upon chisel --

the storm or me.

 

(Photo by Torsten Dederichs on Unsplash)


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