The Potter

But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.

Isa. 64:8

Stay still in the
hands of the Potter,
Lay low neath His wonderful touch.
He shapens and
mouldens in mercy,
The clay that He
loveth so much.
Submit thyself to
His workings,
The curve and
the hollow He wills,
Nor shrink from the
pain and the pressure
For the vessel He
fashions he fills.