March 10, 2009


Your house is made
from different pieces,
but your house is still
a house of God.

Your hands are colored
from dust and dirt,
but your hands are still
hands used for Him.

Your age is of
a small child,
but your age is still
an age of wisdom.

Your heart has felt
the pain of poverty,
but your heart is still
full of riches.

The richest I've seen,
the wisest I've heard,
the most useful yet,
in the warmest house I've stayed.

1 comment:

lukeybaby said...

this is really a beautiful poem
a great way to describe things