The Sculptor Poem by Jim Farr
The Sculptor
you are the sculptor
and I am the clay
you formed me
into the likeness you desired
my imperfections
you cut away
some do not peel away easy
they are removed with agony
but I trust in you great sculptor
fine artist, make me a thing of beauty
in your kiln, cure me with fire
burn my insecurities away
bring out what is great inside me
and when you open my eyes
look down at me
and find pleasure in your work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:12:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Speaks of God and us mortals much, I'm sure God wanted us to be right - BUT