Here is a poem for you Bonnie, MY POTTER I was in the cold and dark, No shape, no purpose, no heart. I could see no reason for my being. Then one day everything changed. HE came to me, set to work Called me, dug me out, pulled me, Set me apart, away from all the rest And placed me on the wheel. Light shone down upon me now My grayness, my shapelessness. “Hey wait!” I cried out in utter despair, “What’s going on here? You took me from my dear spot, So cool, and comfy, peaceful.” HE smiled kindly “Just wait until you see What I have planned for you.” Under me the wheel turned ‘round. Slowly, the faster, stead Fingers began to work confidently, Sometimes the pressure hurt Often I felt confused by Shaping, and molding, changing. Disoriented, uncomfortable Yet HIS eyes were on me. Shape I gained, substantial form From squat and round to shapely. I did not harden, crack but moldable HIS sweet tears kept me soft. Then I saw HIM wince in pain Bruising, cutting deep, scratching My impurities were what was to blame In shame I cried, such guilt! “Potter, I am so sorry! Your pain, your red blood, the stains! I didn’t mean to hurt your dear fingers, Didn’t know the shards wound.” HIS warm smile shone on me. Kneading so deeply HIS blood. “It’s ok my blood always changes things. You cannot stay the same.” HE removed the pollution. HE poked, HE prodded, cut deep. Yet, instead of erasing their vile marks, HE adapted HIS plan. Including each crack and line. “O Potter,” I complained, “You left all those ugly fractures and marks!” “I know. Wait ‘til I’m done.” Smiling in satisfaction A breath, a soft touch, such warmth Came from deep inside, it grew e’er stronger. I could see HIS pleasure. HIS scarred hand gripped me firmly, HE showed me HIS handiwork so very fine. I gasped in shock and awe. From a cold damp lump of clay Empty, yes shapeless, so dark. HE created a lamp, a lantern, glowing Through those scars so hated A LIGHT burst forth, glorious! Shining, illuminating, glis’ning. But never or a moment nor second Did I see me or flaws. Then my POTTER, my MASTER CREATOR, my DESIGNER, BELOVED HE hung me high along a pathway drear, Near a dreadful crevasse. “Now light this path so none pass Will trip, or stumble, or fall To perish in the rocky depths below. Be faithful. Shine brightly.” Here I am with cracks and stains. Deep scars, flagrant flaws, but yet A light so bright from me does glow and flow Illuminating here This spot of mine, this cruel ridge, To one and to all who pass, Who pass me here so none may fall below. Be safe, dear friend, be safe.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 01:37:59 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015