Sunday Poem | The Violinist With One String

He shambled awkward on the stage, the while
Across the waiting audience swept a smile,
With clumsy touch, when first he drew the bow
He snapped a string. The audience tittered low.
Another stroke! Off flies another string!
With laughter now the galleries ring.
Once more! The third string breaks its quivering strands,
And hisses greet the player as he stands.
He stands – while his genius, unbereft,
Is calm – one string and Paganini left.
He plays. The one string’s daring notes uprise
Against the storm as if they sought the skies.
A silence falls; then awe; the people bow,
And they who erst had hissed are weeping now;
And when the last note, trembling, died away,
Some shouted, “Bravo!” some had learned to pray.

–Author Unknown

May we as Christians be like that one string in the hands of our Master:
The Lord Jesus Christ.