Pieces.

Pieces.  

In the cold darkness of a poorly lit room,

You seem a perfect, porcelain, purity.

Truth and beauty are real within this vessel.

But, things aren’t what they seem.

The harsh light of the world pours in,

And upon closer examination we can see the cracks.

Pits and holes, repairs

And countless imperfections,

Breaks and mends and breaks and mends.

Awkward bonding of once solid walls

Create an asymmetrical pattern.

But the beauty remains.

The harsh light fades and darkness falls.

The light of Christ sparks

And begins to burn from within.

The dim room shrinks

And the Shadows fade,

Being chased by the ever brighter light,

Finding no rest in any corner until,

Gone.

The light is piercing.

It blazes through the cracks.

The pits and holes and repairs serve to magnify.

Breaks and mends and breaks and mends,

Bends.

Jesus Christs Loving Light,

Blazes from within.

It escapes through the broken bits.

The perfect piece:

Crushed, recovered, repaired and redeemed

Makes a Mosaic, Kaleidoscopic display.

It is now the Prince’s Prism,

Refracting and reflecting,

But not distorting his beam.

Left in tact, the perfect piece could not do what you do.

It is the weakness that means beauty.

It is his Love that makes it possible.

It is my Joy to witness.

The delicate little heart of yours is fueled by and burns for Our Savior,

Jesus, For the whole world to see.