Squeaks and screeches are heard from afar
As what seems like a beautiful jar
Is being shaped by adroit hands
Clad in miry clay by wheel and table’s aid.
I hope I’m standing unnoticed
As I gaze in awe and curiosity unsized
At a great potter
Who best understands his sculpture?
This potter’s every maneuver
Is as to uncover
With such purpose and skill beyond comprehension,
His unparalleled masterpiece to inquisitive minds.
Will your best moments equal this day?
Surely, you need to be clay
To see eye-to-eye with me
That such days should be no nine-day wonder.
If in all sincerity, I should utter,
My experience with the potter
Is unequal to the existing communion
Between the clay and her potter.