True Face

We don’t know what it means to be living so we make
Something up.
And we are supposed to carry ourselves up
But we look at the ground.
We challenge each other
Yet we diminish ourselves.
Our token in life
Is the answer to why we are here.
We are supposed to hear the words call to us
But we’re busy sifting thru the sand.
We wake up
Busy about everything.
We make a moment out of it
And we wiggle out of our cocoon.
We begin to open a jar
And un-captivate the magic inside.
Our God recognizes our true face
He begins to mold us as clay.
We triumph
When nothing else matters.
We break the mold 
Within the kiln.