bring me that piece of pottery
the one that feels like poetry
whispered words that slipped
from lips dry like sun-cracked earth
thirsting now to touch the flow
of lines and patterns in polished clay
thrown and balanced on earth’s wheel
brushing fingertips of soul
an Adam vessel smooth and cool
now centered on the stage
as curtain draws a final bow
the spirit spins complete
and snaps the golden thread
to sing eternally.
“Bring me that piece of pottery, the one that feels like poetry.” My husband’s cousin made this request, and the words he spoke surprised even him. David enjoyed antiques and acted in many stage productions. He passed away a week ago today.
Lovely. And not lovely, as any poem on dying should be.
Beautiful poem and exceptionally touching knowing the inspiration and sad circumstances.
Pretty photo, too…
Beautiful and peaceful….a loving tribute.
Thanks for sharing.
Beautiful, Sandy. I love this!
I agree…it’s beautiful! I’m so sorry for the loss of a family member. Blessings to you!
You give breath to David’s words. Beautiful breath.
I think it significant that the archeology which tells us so much about our past relies heavily on the artwork and style of pottery which is made of the same clay as humans.
Thanks so much, everyone. And Anne, what an awesome insight!