The Potter
His hands are caves in a far sky.
Look at your eyes (it can be done),
they are pots from a potter’s field;
from the beginning, you have been broken
by a past and its bones.
You who hold your soul like a cup of water.
Let him shape and empty your being.
Come closer to the wheel.
He will keep turning you…let him.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2019
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