still...

be still.

wet clay in the

steady hands

of the

master potter

built up

to be

crushed down.

trusting

the hands of

I Am-

he makes me

different than

i was

ever crushing

slowly building

his steady hands hold me.

trusting

trying

to be

still.

not the sunday school fantasy of a child's

colorful cartoon-

He is real

holding me

molding me

breaking me-

making me.

be still...

wet clay in the

steady hands

of the master

potter

...be quiet my soul

and rest

and trust-

be still

in

the hands that hold me.

©2007 by Brittany Mayer