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.