Craftsman.

I spent my morning looking into Your eyes,
I wanted to say "Forgive me, but I don't understand Your love?"

The arvo bristled by, asleep at the sound of Your voice
I wondered why You even bothered to begin with.

Both Your hands out, while the evening came
Some contentedly spat in Your palm, and waited.

If You were here, would I collapse on my knees
And wash Your feet with my tears?

And this is my only truth:
I am expendable and lost without You.

I know I was born with a fractured heart.
You are the glue.

Aloneness is elusive,
Autonomy - impossible.

For what purpose have You built me?
How am I designed my Lord?

I ask this of my Creator,
the Mender of my soul.

Jesus,
Collect my pieces.

Put me back together again.