We strut the image of God like a suit,
As if we had purchased it for ourselves,
As if our connections helped us recruit
That seamstress, that tailor, those magic elves
Who know how to fashion the image of God
Out of clay: The image of God, I say!
Some fashion designer with measuring rod
That measures that way. Like God! Out of clay!
We strut the image of God like a car
That we bought for ourselves and even deserve.
We seem unaware it’s a gift from afar
In need of a driver who knows not to swerve
Off the road, off of the straight and narrow,
Sober as a judge, straight* as an arrow.
* It’s a rhyming cliche; don’t kick the horse.
“Straight” is a relative term, of course.
Rev. Joel Tucker's Blog 