Everyday begins anew
trials and tribulations may be few
but You use them each and every one
to mold and fashion the clay that sits
upon Your potter’s wheel.
You gently soften and move the clay
unto the form You desire.
Taking care not to squeeze too hard
and damage the form beneath You.
I sit upon the wheel of life
and lovingly feel Your hands upon me
gently rubbing and smoothing out
the imperfections You see.
Tenderly You care for me
and desire only what is best.
I know the pain will not last
and I will be Your very best.
You add some water to Your hands
to soften the hardened clay.
The warmth of Your hands
gives way to movement.
And slowly the clay bends
to Your touch.
Pliable I am in Your fingers.
Gently and lovingly through filtered fingers
I become more like You each day.