Gifted On Purpose. Poem by Babatunde Esho

I ‘m snatched from a crowd,
That teemed of others so loud.
I take a short look back,
Rueful of what I might lack.

I’m brought to a silent place,
And blessed with a workman's grace-
Given from my makers stash,
It meets my hands in a perfect match.

An upward stare at the giver,
Makes the hovering haze now glimmer,
A downward stare at His gift,
Makes the unworthy clutters lift.

What my hands now hold,
Is an awesome sight to behold.
It's work of genius, brings many surprises,
And many views, of my new being arises.

I looked without- same stature still.
I looked within- Christ's nature in.
I looked above- God's smiling on
I looked around- it’s glaring dawn.