Scars were there upon me
Proof of battles won
Yet nowhere could I see
God’s beloved son.

Naked and ashamed was I
While voices all around
Sang lullabies of shame
To bid me shed my crown.

And I was prone to listen
Like many times before
Prepared for flight, I turned…
Yet paused to look once more.

Standing now before me
Was a bronze-skinned little boy
Two hammers in his hands…
And I remembered joy.

Blue eyes flashing brightly
He crossed the mirrored mile
Handed me a hammer
And smiled his crooked smile.

We hit the mirror once.
The voices quickly stilled
We laughed long laughs of glee
And shattered Poser’s will.

Mirrors lose their voice
As beloved son is freed
For naked without shame
We once again will be.

Copyright 2007 Allen Patterson.

and easily distracted

by the incidental games of

the misappropriated.

Ah, how glad I am

for the Story of Grace!