Let There Be Beauty
God broke His worthy chisel,
Chipping away at my physique.
I’m divine, solid of earth,
Rare, and modestly unique.
From my father’s waistline band,
My mother’s womb was torn.
Life was etched by spoken word,
That caused a worldwide storm.
My future is colossal,
For He made no mistake.
He gently carved my contours,
And every single trait.
He blew the dust off of me,
And gazed at His creation.
Then carefully with His cloth,
Pursued His concentration.
He broke my figure’s mold,
To not duplicate my form.
He said, “Let there be beauty.”
And then, I was born.
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