The Clay Considers

Not much of a reader

Not much of a saint

Have tried meditation

But clearly I can’t.

Walked down that straight aisle

And pledged a fresh start

But memories still haunt me

And torment my heart.

I see the True Vine

But vaguely I guess

Still Jesus you graft me

And promise your best.

Not A grade or B grade

I simply believe.

In night calms you visit

I gladly receive

A touch of compassion

A measure of hope

A burden for others

Who wander and grope

This clay has your purpose

And spins with delight

And feels your caressing

And shaping so right.


(Doug Blair)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s