A Poem a Day (702): Unbound clay

 
Unbound clay
 
Here is the morrow,
a looking glass of blended stone,
the disappearance of sorrow,
a vanishing act you cannot borrow.
 
Echoes blind, bind and set you free.
This path is twisted, so let it be,
cross the seldom bridge at your leisure
so you may finally see the distancing,
 
a way of shifting all the light within.
Call forth an image of the life you want
and do not despair in a broken box.
Pure water flows. It does not stick.
 
They impound, set nature’s rhythm back.
Stand up against the wall and be counted
even if the brick is all you can touch.
Scorched, ache in the draft of being seen.
 
Seas flow, and seas crush, and seas ebb.
We feel the breath in setting things free.
Cast a line across the shore and seek shine,
deepset in the emotions you need to release.
 
If the life-giver stretches out a hand to dance,
we can only grasp it, be still in wonder,
for we are sculpture, moulded by hand,
dreamers in a world we do not seek to own.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 1, 2025