Life As An Instrument

Lo! I am a maiden,
besought by many suitors.
Now, who will be my armour?
this, I must decide.

First is the painter
ready for to draw
and if I be his damsel
a portrait I’d become.

Next is the actor
set to stage a play;
and if I be his damsel
an actress I’d become.

There’s the photographer
all set up for a shoot
and if I be his damsel
a model I’d become.

Not left is the writer
all set up for a script
and if I be his damsel
a story I’d become.

Yet is the one I have loved;
his form is not in words
for he is many things in one
and the responses I become:

Yea, he is light, and I, a marvella
He is song; and I, a singer
He is potter; so I become clay
yet a sculptor, and I, an image.

This one I have loved…
too numerous for words
but in every space He exists,
the response I become:
Life as an instrument.