(God’s Sonnet by Timothy J. Verret; it’s how I cope to hope in “He Potter” to mold “Me Free” of stubbornness)
You got this stubborn streak about your race.
You did not ask for it; just born that way.
Or was it chicken or egg first? Birthplace?
Chances are you got hurt really bad. Clay
is my way. I need someone to mold me
“right,” because stubborn am I. Full of pride.
“You won’t mold me to fit you!” I foresee
trauma from you. God must potter my stride.
“You have made me clay but to dust again?”
Job Ten:9 – God spits on dust to make clay!
We can go back to dust, you know. To men
stubborn, eating rotten fruit and blame “they.”
When stubborn, we tolerate God’s Leeway.
Look like a duck, quack like a duck….that’s gray!
