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
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