A Litany of Survival

A Litany of Survival

For those of us, each of us…
In your ‘image’—we designed.
Fashioned from clay,
You the Potter…turn the wheel
—“we,” the work of your hands.

Look upon what you
have made.
If we break, gather the pieces
—make us new again & again.
“We,” the work of your hands.

Set a table,
prepare a feast,
invite the homeless one
in whom, you dwell,
the one passed by
—“we,” all, the work of your hands.

To the ones who do not
‘want,’
who ‘take’ the wheel from your hands,
You do not resist…clay crumbles.
You let-go…weeping—
“we,” the work of your hands.

Fashion, for those of us, each and every One
—our arms, so they reach for the lost
—lengthen our stride so we might dance
and be glad
—open our lips so we might sing
this song
“we, the work of your hands.”

Soften our hearts
so that, who we are in You,
always changing, never the same
“we, the work of your hands.”

Oh, Gentle Potter,
promise you will stay, even beyond the 
survival of our lives.

Make, for our children, and their children’s 
children,
a Promised Land
“we, the work of your hands.”