By Melissa McLaughlin

In the Potter’s hands

He turns me

Gently molding

Firmly holding

Heaven’s golding

Bending

Pressing

Shaping

Swirling

Barely recognizing

This old lump of clay

Glimpse His glistening glory

See His unfolding story

Waiting while He works

Here in the Potter’s hands

 

Additional poems you might enjoy:

Broken Edges – Poem by Melissa McLaughlin

Refiner’s Fire – Poem and prayer by Melissa McLaughlin