good grief /Completed

Stained Glass

When the pieces are scattered

The edges sharp and battered

All our hopes are tattered

Pieces of Glass

When who we were is over

and faded like late summer clover

And washed like the cliffs of Dover

We feel Dashed.

When what we wanted is faded

And all our hope is jaded

When we feel we have waded

In over our head

When we are too weak to gather

All of the shards that matter

And they are spread and bespatter

the walk on which they lay.

It seem that it is then the Master

Has an ability to come after

And swope them up into another picture

He can make

That He can cement with mortar

that no human mason can muster

and somehow put together

All we once were and are

shards to sharp and mangled

for human hands to handle

He sets what once would dangle

Into a new collage.

In darkenss peices soldered

And in despair molded

are just waiting now

For the Son's light.

I feel his fingers mending

I feel his heart is tending

What seems so unappealing

Sown together in the pain of night

But how the colors brighten

How in his beauty they lighten

I see his face and embrace his might

He is the artisan

the craftsman

who always can

The one who brings stained glass

to Light.