The Unbroken Clay

[ShyEyes]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.

 

[cheetra]

Beautiful poem.

 

[Honey bunch]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.View attachment 432407

Clay never knows what the hands are creating… it simply trusts the process. Maybe that’s what we need to learn too. ​

 

[PRETTYCUTIE]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.View attachment 432407

Maybe we are all just clay in time’s hands
shaped by pressure, refined by pain,
until every scar becomes a strength
and every struggle gives us form.

 

[Dark tristan]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.View attachment 432407

Good one

 

[Boyd]

Do not fear the shaping hand, for even the finest vessel was once just dust. Beautifully and wisely penned! "

 

[Anshhi]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.View attachment 432407

 

[Hope24]

The spinning wheel begins to turn,
a simple lump of heavy earth,
that waits in silence for its turn
to shape a cold and quiet birth.

The potter’s hands are firm and slow,
they press the sides to find the center,
and teach the stubborn clay to know
the hollow space where light can enter.

It must endure the pressure's weight,
and yield its edges to the stone,
to rise above its simple state
and claim a beauty of its own.

So do not fear the shaping hand,
nor mind the heat that makes you strong
the finest vessel in the land
was only dust for just as long.View attachment 432407

Sweet words