Mosaic

I feel like I am broken glass scattered on the floor
and someone ought to sweep me up and throw me out the door.
For I can not be mended or made again brand new
and all these shattered pieces cannot belong to you.
But you tell me I am yours alone and that you love me still.
You wrap me in your Holiness and mold me to your will.
Till my brokenness becomes something beautiful and true.
A mosaic of your love, a vessel for your use.


By AMT