The Potter and the clay

The Potter and the clay


“But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.”  Isaiah 64:8

Of bits of dust and clay, formed

centered on the wheel

mistakes and missteps clearly evident

In this misshapen pot

 

What if the molded structure lists,

or cracks for toughness – a clod of stubborn sand perhaps?

 

Or explodes in shards and splinters

as the heat becomes intense?

 

Maker and re-shaper of broken vessels

what if I need

more than sprinkling of water and a few caresses at the wheel can heal?

 

What if I need a ground to dust and re-formed

kind of re-born?

 

With my plea

the Potter’s hands take over

 

His vision is not mine

He has a greater use in mind, a better plan

 

And so he presses and molds

reshaping

and with each turn of the wheel, the traces of his fingerprints linger

as He draws and smooths upward.