Poetry

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The soul is like a block of marble.
A sculptor does not see a block of marble.
A block full of flaws and imperfections.
He sees what it can become.
He has a vision of what it is to be.
A sculptor will toil for years to transform it.
Transform it into the image he sees in his mind.
Cut by cut he will shape it to match that image.

The flaws are even used in his design.
Used to enhance the final result.
Even they could not scar its ultimate beauty.
They even make it more beautiful to see.
Such intense beauty from a rough piece of stone.
The sculptor accepts the imperfections.
He doesn’t try to find a more perfect block.

Our eternal soul Is filled with the flaws of our life.
The shame and the guilt of our past.
All the hurt and the pain that life can bring.
All of life’s suffering and the mistakes made.
The Master Sculptor accepts us as we are.
It takes the Master Sculptor our entire lives
To take cross-like cuts at the marble of our souls.
One cut at a time He sculpts into His image.

A hard piece of stone and all the flaws found there,
Are turned into something beautiful to see.
Fulfilling the vision He saw in us from the beginning,
He uses our imperfections as part of His perfect design.
With great commitment and great loving patience,
He perfects us into the image He wants us to be.
One cut at a time He takes at the marble of our soul,
Until the Master Sculptor makes us complete in Him.
Vasquez Savage

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