shaping the clay

we think of the end
product

a coffee mug
that warms our tongues

clay that has been fired
in a kiln, transformed

or do we take it
for granted

a comic book we read
at night before sleep

for dreams of powers
and wild adventures

to recover that
which has been stolen

to put out the fires
that burn the world

when it is the origin story
we truly seek

our beginnings
not the end product

or is that wrong too
is it

not the past
not the future

not was
not will be

through the now
i am

///

This poem was written in response to Wordle 204 at The Sunday Whirl.

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8 thoughts on “shaping the clay

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