All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Jesus' Hands
I remember my time on earth,
It was a vague figment of my past- not too vivid.
My most precious memories were those spent in my mother's garden.
I lay hidden in a plethora of blue and royal purple, staring up at a pink evening night.
The Master's hands, Jesus, were busy crafting,
Oh how he loved carpentry!
Preparing a chair for the royal feast that afternoon,
My mother's death lay imminent in the skies of Heaven- her star shone brighter than all others.
His pierced hands at work,
What a sight!
A Master's Hands with hammer to nail,
He captured divine knowledge with his work.
So perfectly precise,
Elegant bones veiled behind his skin,
They were elegantly shaping and molding,
And His finished work- a masterpiece.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.