There was clay,
and the Potter shaped it,
turning it upon the wheel.
Too fast the wheel spun,
and the clay trembled,
stretched out too thin.
Then the Potter's hands reached out,
reshaped the clay,
made it stronger.
Off center, the clay wobbled,
lopsided and confused.
Again the Potter’s hand came,
lifted and straightened the vessel.
When it was finished,
fired and final,
the Potter sent it to the world,
filled with Spirit,
made with love.
Megan Brett
No comments:
Post a Comment