THE ARTIST’S …

THE ARTIST’S HANDS

It is in awe, and wonder that

The artist with such hands now sat,

Perched upon a cliff at sea

Hearing a voice speak audibly.

“You’ve painted much there is to see,

With steady hands and skillful strokes,

You are ready now,

Paint Me.”

The artist cried,

“I can’t Oh, Lord, paint with brush,

Your face and eyes,

So tenderly,

For I haven’t seen

Your face before;

I have no picture

But history and lore.

“How can I paint

The face of God?

What can I do

But a sketch or more?”

God replied, “Look around,

At the world’s mankind;

Look for my image and you will find,

The face and eyes of the Son of God,

Then you will know

How to begin.

Now go my child

And paint Him.”

_______________

  Joyce E. Johnson © 2005

Posted April 10, 2012 by Joyce in Poems, Uncategorized

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