The Carpenter with a small chisel,
Carves you- the old and knotted trunk,
He’s adding value but for you is a riddle,
Feeling the pain in tears you sunk.

The Potter has you- his clay on the wheel,
His touch transforms you every hour,
Going through fire… pain again, just pain you feel,
But soon you’ll be a vase for the beautiful flowers.

The Doctor often cuts out cancer all around,
He cleanses with the patience all the bleeding,
You can look at the scar and see the wound,
Or you can look and see the healing!