A Good Place To Be – a poem

With the rising sun it is bravado I display,
While under the resting moon as a small child I lay.
Bravery, bravery, why are you hidden today?
Testify, as to myself my own heart does betray.
So forlorn as my rescue is so long in delay.
Oh, the affable Father is molding me like clay!

Isaiah 64:8 “Yet LORD, You are our Father; we are the clay, and You are our potter; we all are the work of Your hands.”

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