
A Potter’s Clay Once soft & compliant Lying now Resistant, hard On a cold, sterile ground in broken shards pieces of shattered clay, damaged jars Then comes those Potter’s Hands Warm & ready Full of good plans They reach out to lift And return to brokenness The challenging gift Of to serve a purpose Adding water to soften A dried-out skin Once more He slowly begins to win A softened compliance Using His own Strength & Will Slowly is He able to fill Restore to a fresh new life Each worn out, damaged pot From the roughened, sharp edges He may receive bruises, a few cuts Lose some drops of blood But in the midst of His pain Will come forth a deeper flood Of love, mercy, compassion For the brokenness He repairs So now with newly scarred hands He removes a crusty dirt’s thick layers Revealing at last a clean new creation Returning to it an original beauty & of its dark uselessness, an ablation!


















