Master Designer

Master Designer prose poem

Uploaded by curtisjohnsonsr

An accountant, businessman, psychologist, or teacher?
Great challenging and responsible endeavors, but for who?
What was God thinking when he made you?

A doctor, lawyer, Janitor, engineer, or carpenter?
All good and noble professions, but for who?
What was God thinking when he made you?

Politician, policeman, or judge?
All needful careers, but for who?
What was God thinking when he made you?

Preacher, priest, prophet, or missionary?
Imagine a world without them; but for who?
What was God thinking when he made you?

An actor/actress, writer, musician, or singers not a few
All decent and respectable professions, but for who?
And what was God thinking when he made you?

At our beginning, God painted the picture, leaving us a clue
He uses many people and things to present the finished you
He invites us to join him, helping him to produce me and you.

God, with purpose, designed you to be you, and me to be me.
When we seek him, the portrait he painted of us comes into view.
When we pursue that portrait, we are happy, and our lives become clear

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of curtisjohnsonsr


Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am a retired minister and the husband of Barbara for 42 years. We reside in Sacramento ,Ca. We have two sons and a daughter, and we are the proud grandparents of 6 children.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

The Prince, The King And The Master

The Prince, The King And The Master long poem

The shrine of Madonna stood tall, The high king’s rapier fell down, not anymore was he the young prince, for he was devoid of all feelings. The shrine of Madonna stood strong, The high king’s blood washed the ivory pedestal,

New Master Magician

New Master Magician long poem

From out of a blue mist comes magic the voice of a meadow lark, a song straight from the heart… well it is magic beyond belief like something out of a dream like nothing you’ve ever heard or seen and

The Puppet Master

The Puppet Master short poem

the blue moon rises in the broken October sky a crooked smile crosses her face a tear in un-knowing eyes the puppet master pulls the strings the puppet seems surprised she dances in the moonlight in the yard where graves

Rhapsody In The Feet Of Master

Rhapsody In The Feet Of Master short poem

Rhapsody in the Feet of Master He called me to come in his room The moment I entered into his room I felt as if I am entering In sanctum Sanctorum He sat down on his chair And closed his

The Master Didn’t Appear.

The Master Didnt Appear. short poem

Come along and wait with me, He said he’ll come and come shall he, So don’t be Daft just let it be, For we are where we ought to be, It’s been so long I know it too, You look