Self Portrait

Each face is like a canvas where upon one's thoughts do trace Revealing for the world to see our ugliness or grace. Though slow the task, beware how fast each artist's mark is made When life's done collecting our sum, it's worn beyond the grave. Sweet youth's innocence passes like fields of springtime flowers As each soul's character is forged by their choices every hour. In life's countless sundry trials befalling great and small, Many grow refined, some less inclined stumble, or they fall. So seek the Master Artist who helps repair our mistakes And from life's palette of choices helps us wisely to partake. Then when we meet to kneel and bow before God's Holy Grace, We'll find His strokes of perfect love upon each soul's true face.