Psalm 31 — Paint Me Gold

An Italian Sonnet

Photo by Motoki Tonn on Unsplash

I am like a broken crucible
Lying shattered, scattered on the floor;
I am not remembered anymore,
Thrown away, destroyed, unusable.
There is naught for which I’m suitable;
Slander swarms and beats upon my door;
Fear is all around: behind, before,
Telling me that I’m not beautiful.

But You will pick me up and paint me gold
And hide me in Your secret guarded place.
Now, in Your arms I’m confident and bold;
My foes are shamed and dare not show their face
For You have chosen me to be Your Bride.
You crown my head with glory, joy, and pride.

My Psalms

Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.

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