The whetstone

The whetstone                                                                                          

I sought from my Lord daily relief

from the persistent disquiet and shame; 

sought absolution and allowance

for my chronic failures,

my miserable inadequacy,

until one day my Lord said to me:

It was I who hobbled you –

to keep you from straying too far.

I cuffed your wrists to keep your hands

out of mischief and folded in prayer.

I placed the blinders on – to train your vision

in the one direction you need to go.

I plugged your ears to reveal the inner voice.

I built you strange-tongued, odd and solitary

to separate you from the seductive crowd

because you belong to no one else but Me.   

O child of God, to properly sharpen the blade,

rough and fine-grained must be the whetstone.