Feel Earth
What it Means to Throw Clay and feel Earth Come Alive
There is life in this clay as I wedge before day, when morning is just but a gleam
Its life’s hard to feel, when it’s not on a wheel, but my fingers are gentle and clean
So any heartbeat, that lies in the deep, is like waves that crash on the shore
And as I, wedge my clay, in the dawn before day, I will help this life to grow more
Slump in my chair, and brush back my hair, before lifting the first ball to me
A five-pound no more, but size is no chore, for a master with hands that can see
And its smack on the bat is loud as a crack, hunch over the faint little heart
With a sponge in my grip the water turns to slip, a push of the wheel now I start
At once it’s alive, it beating will thrive, I can feel my own heart speed the wheel
Off-center a bit, but its life has been lit, it’s alive and it moves with my feel
So I dive with the earth, and help to give birth, to a pot which this clay will now form
Be proud where you end, I tell my dear friend, but it trembles and shakes with reform
The clay moves not you, my words whisper true, as the form writhes in my grip
I cast up and down, the slip forms a crown, on its head which comes off in a strip
As my hands move in, its beating grows din, to center this clay is the devil
But I remember my phrase, and my hand does not raise, ‘til it’s round and perfectly level
My hands go to center, my fingertips enter, and I open the clay to a torus
I can tell that it’s scared with its insides so flared, my fingers move together in chorus
Sing now my dear! I implore you drop fear, my hands guide your way as you rise
Your form grows with majesty as you spin in front of me, you breathe ‘neath my hands with your cries
But suddenly I stop as you reach your full top, and I place my hands on your base
I listen and feel with the spins of the wheel, but I realize some thing’s out of place
For deep in your wall an air pocket’s small, a death wish for pots of all size
You don’t feel it that much, but it hurts when I touch, I fear this will be your demise
And it pains me so, when the wheel does slow, and gaze at your fabulous lines
You were princely, a king, your figure could sing, yet none of your grace undermines
The dawn crept near when I shed a tear, and pulled out a long coiled thread
Around fingers of life, I wrapped thread like a knife, and cut you from the bat so you’re dead
Severed and broken, your body a token, of clay that could breathe and laugh
And I look at the thread which claimed you instead, and sighing I cut you in half
There in your wall, I see a bubble, that’s all, what brought you down from your top
Cannot be, it’s not fair, I feel the despair, as I throw your two halves in the slop
But dawn has a way, of clearing dismay, and as the sun rose so did I
I felt through my feet, a breathing in beat, coming from the earth and the sky
It breathed both in time, to clay’s heart and mine, and I saw myself split like the pot
But my breathing lived on, though my body was gone, for the heart and the soul don’t get caught
The sunlight now broke from cracking night’s cloak, like gold ships from the sea I saw light
The majesty I saw put in contrast the flaw, in the pot thrown at dawn after night
Yes the form it was great, but that did not make, the clay who it was ‘neath my hands
It was beating and breath, not cause of death, which defined my dear friend in my plans
So again let us throw! I shout all aglow, We will make such a form never seen!
Clay on the bat, loud as a crack, I drip you in water ‘till you gleam
And this time I touch, not one beat as such, but the breath of the earth and the sky
I pull and there’s life, give beauty with knife, I’m a potter, with clay I can fly
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