Stained Glass

Shards of broken glass, and more.


a concrete floor.

Every color.

Every shade.

Every shape of shattered made.


So cold, so dull and dirty


so much more,

lest we forget.


The Artist has a bigger view.

The brokenness of me and you.

Files the edges,

one by one.

Holds them up to catch the sun.

Piece by piece with Love and Sear.

Ever precious.

Ever dear.


Gentle rebirth of the soul.

A thousand shards to make us whole.

A lifetimes crafting to get right.

Lifted High to catch the Light.

To Shine with every wonder known,

when all the pieces find their Home.

6 thoughts on “Stained Glass

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    The line,”Every shape of shattered made”,in particular caught my eye.I usually tend to respond to innovative or unusual or novel associations and combinations.And “shattered” contiguous with and preceding “made”encapsulates the broader theme of the poem.Restoration,renewal, my estimation an absolute gem of a Faith-Centered poem!

  2. HowardFrost

    I’ve been away from the keyboard for a day or two doing “house and garden” sort of things, and relaxing watching evening TV.
    Strangely enough, I have seen two programmes on stained glass in that short period and all I can say is – well done you – super piece.
    I must now go to York Minster and see the work on the Great East Window.

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