An Original - Poem by Nathaleen Cobb
Why am I on this hill
Capable in body and strong in will
My musical instrument well strung
Why is my voice yet quiet and still.
Why not sing the song
I was sent to sing.
My modeling has not just begun,
The price was paid, a painful thing
Artistic work at the potters wheel
Time and temperature in the fiery kiln.
No need to seek another comparison.
The book has been written, a map of instruction.
I will raise my voice, loud and clear,
And sing the song I came to sing,
To celebrate the birth of Christ,
In thanksgiving that God is love.
Comments about An Original by Nathaleen Cobb
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You