Isaiah 64: 8 Poem by Amera Andersen

Isaiah 64: 8

Rating: 5.0


With dust and spittle you muddied your hands
and formed a heart with the clay of my soul.
You gave me an essence that understands,
that all that I do is under control.

You are the potter and I am the clay.
You gave me an image likened to yours,
I danced on your wheel in solemn ballet,
assuming a likeness that your heart adores.

So in your image, I now turn the wheel,
for I am the potter, you made me this way.
You gave me freewill and passion to feel,
I’ll do my best Lord, please help me I pray.

Don’t leave me alone Lord, guide me along,
give me the strength Lord, to keep going strong.

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