'Naked came I from my mother's womb,
and naked I shall return.' —Job 1: 21
Who are we anyway?
Think stick bug
shown close up
and moving slowly
on a branch.
For another shape
think stink bug
butt up and picking its way
on the ground.
Not that we're nothing.
But take away
all the thought
all the airy nothing
that surrounds us
like a cloud of gnats
that blurs from clarity
that keeps us from asking
what are we anyway?
and what remains
are vases
holding spirits
utterly vulnerable.
While God
who cares
inclines toward us
and waits.
We are stink bigs? ! That's funny. But true. And yet have treasure in earthenware vessels.... (Are those the vases you were referring to?) . Good one, Glen?
of course you recognize the reference to 2 corinthians in earthenware vessels. years ago a pastor i worked with humorously and accurately referred to us humans as cracked pots. i like that. -glen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lo! I've heard the same. True again in both senses of the expression...