Clay and Potter

Clay and Potter

I am the clay without shape or form

No sense of direction or purpose

Just a blob of clay nothing more or less

Can’t be used for anything in particular

Can’t change what I am or how I look

Without the hands of the Almighty Potter

You are the Potter and You’re in control

Your hands changes this clay into a vessel

You decide whether I am to be a pot

Or if I am meant to be cup or a bowl

You give me a new name and shape

A purpose beyond just a lump of clay

Between Your fingers I am pressed

I am molded over and over again

Folded into itself and purified

Remixed and refined in Your hands

Till I no longer am just a clump of clay

But I look like the work of my Potter’s hands