by Mo Isom Aiken | Poetry
I am but clay in the potter’s hands, a mass amongst many in the workshop of life. Formless and shapeless, no use or demands, simple and naive, unfamiliar to strife. To my left rest many, resembling me, but they’re hardened and drying, crumbling in state....
by Mo Isom Aiken | Adversity, Daily Walk, Faith
Hey there! Today’s post was inspired by an acquaintance of mine, and a brother in Christ. He contacted me in regards to a speech he was preparing to give. It was a speech about leadership, and He was wondering if I had any insight. I put his question into...
by Mo Isom Aiken | Poetry
I fancy myself a mosaic, a mosaic constructed by God. Intricately made, passionately displayed, beautifully humble, yet odd. For I once was I clean sheet of glass, free from blemish or flaw. I was polished and buffed, fragile but tough, pure and simple, yet...
