Earthen Vessels
We are but clay, shaped by unseen hands,
Molded from earth, from ancient lands.
Fragile yet strong, we carry the weight,
Of dreams unspoken, of love and fate.
Each crack a story, each mark a scar,
A map of where we've been, near and far.
Hollowed within, yet brimming with grace,
We house the divine in our humble space.
Through fire's embrace, we harden and grow,
Tempered by trials, as rivers flow.
No two the same, each vessel unique,
A tale of purpose, a voice to speak.
We cradle the rain, the grain, the wine,
A sacred design, both human and divine.
Our flaws bear witness to lives lived true,
An eternal promise in all we do.
The potter's hands, with care, refine,
Each turn, each press, a holy design.
For even in fragments, we still endure,
Carriers of hope, steadfast and pure.
The fire may scorch, the storms may break,
Yet stronger we rise, for heaven’s sake.
With every repair, a new song is sung,
Our journey continues, forever young.
In earthen silence, our strength is clear,
Holding life's waters, its laughter, and tears.
What seems so simple, so plain and small,
Is where love whispers its loudest call.
The weight we bear is a gift, not shame,
A vessel of purpose, not bound by name.
Each line, each groove, tells a sacred tale,
Of how we are broken, yet never fail.
Through every season, through dark and light,
We carry the stars, we cradle the night.
A timeless dance between dust and soul,
A vessel's journey toward being whole.
Let us not fear when the cracks appear,
For they let the light shine bright and clear.
Earthen vessels, we may seem frail,
But within, the Spirit will never pale.
For in these hands, we were softly spun,
A masterpiece crafted by the Holy One.
And though we return to dust in the end,
Our purpose fulfilled, our essence will transcend.
Molded from earth, from ancient lands.
Fragile yet strong, we carry the weight,
Of dreams unspoken, of love and fate.
Each crack a story, each mark a scar,
A map of where we've been, near and far.
Hollowed within, yet brimming with grace,
We house the divine in our humble space.
Through fire's embrace, we harden and grow,
Tempered by trials, as rivers flow.
No two the same, each vessel unique,
A tale of purpose, a voice to speak.
We cradle the rain, the grain, the wine,
A sacred design, both human and divine.
Our flaws bear witness to lives lived true,
An eternal promise in all we do.
The potter's hands, with care, refine,
Each turn, each press, a holy design.
For even in fragments, we still endure,
Carriers of hope, steadfast and pure.
The fire may scorch, the storms may break,
Yet stronger we rise, for heaven’s sake.
With every repair, a new song is sung,
Our journey continues, forever young.
In earthen silence, our strength is clear,
Holding life's waters, its laughter, and tears.
What seems so simple, so plain and small,
Is where love whispers its loudest call.
The weight we bear is a gift, not shame,
A vessel of purpose, not bound by name.
Each line, each groove, tells a sacred tale,
Of how we are broken, yet never fail.
Through every season, through dark and light,
We carry the stars, we cradle the night.
A timeless dance between dust and soul,
A vessel's journey toward being whole.
Let us not fear when the cracks appear,
For they let the light shine bright and clear.
Earthen vessels, we may seem frail,
But within, the Spirit will never pale.
For in these hands, we were softly spun,
A masterpiece crafted by the Holy One.
And though we return to dust in the end,
Our purpose fulfilled, our essence will transcend.
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