Thursday 28 May 2009 . 10:05

A surgical glove, delicate and frail,
Saves lives in the midst of surgical detail,
The glove, insignificant in its own right,
On the surgeons hand becomes an invincible knight.

If a basketball in my hands lands,
Compared to its value in Jordan’s hands,
Is surely worth not more than a win,
It all depends whose hands it’s in!

Like the captivating tune of a violin,
A delicate sail can catch the wind,
And I absorb the ocean breeze
As my life freely sails across the seas.

I swing lifeless on my trapeze
And surrender to His expertise.
I let go of my hold, unfold my hand,
Secure that in my catcher’s hold I’ll land.

My freedom exposed in an arm’s length
And in this weakness lies my catcher’s strength.

by Martine 1 comments