The Ceramist

A Poem by Rasha Lama

i was feeling a bit inspired one morning

You're a ball of clay in the world of hands. You have no choice at first but to be molded and shaped to whatever hands you are surrounded by. You'll change and grow, dry up and break, heal and live on. The day will come when you will have a body and limbs walking to the hands you want to live with. Those hands will shape you into something you never thought you could be. Dreams will be a reality as you mold into a physical being of your thoughts.

I have to warn you though, about the journey. No matter the kind hand holding on to you or the vigorous shapes forced upon you. Mistakes happen as fingers slip. Your shape will alter without you knowing so. You might take the imprint of what has been damaging you. Once the hands leave, you'll dry up and watch. Watch the freedom in this world and the reflection upon the molds. This is when you have to let go and allow yourself to break. Help that crack in the base of your being open up and spread. Break the dry and harsh case around you. The clay under it is still young. Save it before time passes and all you become is a rock of hatred.

You'll need tears to break you down and long nights breaking the bad bits off of you. It's hard, I know, I had to do it once before. But let me tell you what becomes left of you, how the other side of the reflection looks like. You'll be in charge of your shape. You'll be the hands holding you safe with love. Your hands will remain in this world to keep you safe until wrinkles dry to cracks. (These are the good cracks though as everyone needs some to show they've lived.) The time will come where you'll have to dry up and stay still. But it's okay as everyone's time comes one day.

Your whole life of changing and breaking free shaped you into the being you end off in this life. You won't die, your beauty will be admired by the future, hopeless, lost clay. You will be their reflection, their hands molding them through. It'll be your time to sit back and watch the world you built. Off tears, off cracks, off evil hands, off evil thoughts. The world you leave behind will be a mold of who you became.

© 2015 Rasha Lama

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Reviews

Coyote Poetry

I enjoyed your logic and thoughts. You are very smart. Make the words have meaning and leave the reader with something to think about.
"Your whole life of changing and breaking free shaped you into the being you end off in this life. You won't die, your beauty will be admired by the future, hopeless, lost clay. You will be their reflection, their hands molding them through. It'll be your time to sit back and watch the world you built. Off tears, off cracks, off evil hands, off evil thoughts. The world you leave behind will be a mold of who you became."
About lines stand strong and true. We do mold our place and life. Good or bad. We create the safe place or mess. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote