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Self Portraits

Let us become
Testimonies of what is possible;

Showing the deftness and skill
Of our Father’s hand.

Some will stop.
Gaze in a drinking way.
Reach out, dark-eyed
And trace the contours
Of your face, your life
Feel the texture

Discover the brush strokes

And weep, and weep.
And whisper,
Let me, oh please,
Let me be painted
In such a way.
Show me this Painter
Who takes a scrap,
A rag of canvas
From the gutter,

And paints a sunrise
Infuses life, and color,
Renders glow and smile and teardrop

Paints self-portraits
On broken glass

Who makes a dead thing live.

Author's Note: 
This poem was inspired by the writings of Frank Laubach. 
You can view some of his writings here:

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