He Delicately Shapes A Vessel
Callie Lawson
He delicately shapes a vessel,Each unique, polished,
Smooth as sea glass
By the warm sunlight of joy,
Rounded by the light
Solid as the summer-toned rock,
Inside, a liquid zephyr spirit,
A human form embryonic
Warmed by the breath of God
The vessel ages, taking on
The colors of wine-hope
And salt-sea tear stains
Loving shades of life-born hues
Yet each perfect form after its creation,
Is marred by one unnoticed flaw,
A crack, a common thread,
Narrow as the grains that form our clay being
Our breaking point, one original scar,
Buckles under hammer blows,
Jealousy the sharpest crack,
Hate a steady, lasting drum.
Each a buckling inward shatter,
Unnoticed as the scattering of dust
Across a floor,
Yet like dust, tainting
That inner fluid human.
Each blow fractures
Us into clay shards,
We cut the hands of our Master,
Break the feet, and make to bleed His heart,
Yet he treads the cutting blades
Of our sins to stoop,
And with passion red life-blood,
Spilling from His artist fingers
He embraces each forgotten inner form,
Clearing our bodies of broken dirt.
With His tireless, steady pulsing feet,
He pounds the shards and breaks the sins
Into small mounds of dust,
Humbled under His feet.
The Maker takes the dry earth,
Mixes spittle and forms clay again,
Caking it on the eyes of His children
So He gives sight to His blind,
Bids His children see their forms,
Strong on two legs.
He makes us new,
Transcending first form and flaw,
Sides as smooth and perfect,
Open and fluid,
As the liquid soul inside.
