On the potter’s wheel
in a small studio in the hamlet of Field, B.C.,
on the side of a blue-grey mountain
mere clay
turns out into impossible goblets, bowls
and serving plates, glazed copper
and cream; the practice of getting alone with God
akin to the soul as clay for the potter
now spinning, shaping,
accounting for the form, the function
at the heart
of the matter
This poem about the shaping of a soul appears in my upcoming book on the Spiritual Formational Disciplines that lead us into a deeper experience of the One who Made Us and called it good. There is something special about wandering through a Potter’s Studio, smelling the clay, feeling the thrill of the wheel, admiring the finished pieces–vases, dishes, goblets. But I find their hands, their love of their craft, the thing I take away, hold onto to. Value most. It’s hard to imagine that God, who is the potter to my clay, not loving such work.
This poem appears in my NEW BOOK, “Longings of the Soul, a poetic response.” Now on Amazon.