Brokeness

Oh! What a beautiful vase Having selected the choicest one It is so smooth, colors so grand This one is the finest in the land Was not always so When at life did play It fell shattered on the floor Broken into a thousand pieces or more Pieces were scooped up in their broken State, carried to the Potter's house There to wait their fate Placing them on the shelf To sit there all by themselves Alone, shattered, no longer secure But broken, torn, ugly refuge Of use no more, ready to go home Then the Potter removed it from The shelf, saturated with His tears And let it sit and soak to soften To remove the abuse of the years Any fears, any vileness, any hate Then the Potter picked up the pieces To restore the beautiful shape He filled all the cracks, dreams, visions Made each break stronger still So in the latter half of life This vase would be better useful More genuine and very real Upon the shelf is sitting The vase with the Potter's Touch his hand has restored Given it the loving grace