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Bank Of Clay
by David Pekrul It was just a bank of clay by the irrigation ditch, unpretentious and covered in weeds, but to us it was a world of wonder. We dipped the clay into the cool water, molding it with our imaginations, and the magic appeared. Battalions of soldiers fought with armies of monsters, while castles, complete with kings and queens, towered over the scene. Pots and bowls of all shapes and sizes sat baking in the hot sun, masterpieces of art, every one. We became the creators, the masters of our universe, until the sun went down and it was time to go home, and once again our world of wonder became a bank of clay. Now I often think of that bank, so much like our lives, unpretentious, covered in the mistakes of our past. then the Master Creator dips us in the cool waters of His love and each one becomes a masterpiece of His art. www.myhiddenvoice.com The poetry of David Ronald Bruce Pekrul If this article is used in any publication, please send a copy of the publication to David Pekrul at 170 Carr Cres. Okotoks, AB T1S 1E3 Canada E-Mail: [email protected] Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |