Shards

 SHARDS

Shattered, broken, deadly…

A lifetime of mistakes lay before me

In overwhelming hues.

Looking around,

I don’t know where to go,

What to do.

Who am I…

…Other than a thousand bits

Of splintered, senseless

Colored glass?

But then,

Ever so gently,

I feel the pieces lovingly gathered,

Delicately and deliberately rearranged,

Making sense of

The sadness,

The heartache,

The mistakes,

The flaws,

The cracked ugly pieces

Of my broken soul.

Patterns form

As I submit

To this brutally tender rearrangement,

Allowing myself to float,

To move,

To break even further

Under the hands

Of the Master Craftsman.

The lead is placed

Deliberately

Between the gaps of the

Broken, colored pieces…

An Atonement of Love

Sealing,

Soldering the pattern into place

In the furnace of redemption.

“What are you doing?”

My soul cries out.

“These pieces are broken,

Ugly,

Unredeemable!

I am still but a cacophonic collection

Of worthless,

Fragmented,

Melted sand.”

My heart hung in shame,

The Master Craftsman

Gently reaches,

Lovinging lifting me into place.

“Just watch,”

He whispers.

Light--

His light!--

Shines through my brokenness

I gasp,

As I see I have become

His stained glass masterpiece.

(Image from Stained glass window, fantasy woman portrait. Generative ai By FantasyEmporium https://stock.adobe.com/images/stained-glass-window-fantasy-woman-portrait-generative-ai/553267928)