The chosen vessel The Master was searching for a vessel to use, Before him there were many, Which one would be choose? “Take Me,” cried the golden one, “I am shiny and bright, “I’m of great value and I do things just right” “My beauty and luster will outshine the rest,” “And for someone like you, Master” “Gold would be best!” The Master passed on with no word at all, And looked at a silver urn narrow and tall, “I’ll be on your table whenever you dine” “My lines are so grateful”. “My carvings so true”, “And silver will always compliment you”. Unheeding, the Master passed on to the brass, Wide-mouthed and shallow and polished like glass. “Here! Here! Cried the vessel; I know I will do” “Place me on the table for all men to view”. “Look at me” called the goblet of crystal so clear, “My transparency shows my contents so dear”. “Though fragile am I, I will serve you with pride”. “And I’m sure I’ll be happy in your house to abide”. The Master came next to a vessel of wood, Polished and carved, it solidly stood, “You may use me, dear Master” the wooden bowl said, “But I’d rather you use me for fruit, not for bread”.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Jun 2013 08:08:14 +0000