Raymond A. Foss Poems

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I am clay in the potter’s hands
Mold me, shape me, make me
What you will of me
Use me for your purposes
Imbue me with the skills, the spirit
To serve where you would have me serve
Performing the services you would intend
Wherever you would send me
However you would will me
To send me forth
From this space, this place
Into the world
As your servant, your son
Your child, in your image,
The image of your son,
Our brother, our example,
Our savior, like us clay
Held in the potter’s hands

September 3, 2007 15:05
Jeremiah 18:1-11

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