Another vessel, as seemed good
The pounding in your studio
is house-shakingly violent.
Dishes rattle and tumblers
quake in their cupboards.
You are angry and punishing
the clay tonight.
The chthonic aroma of powdered
earth and water tickles
my nostrils as I descend
the stairs to watch you work.
It’s astonishing how deliberate you are
as you remove air from the clay,
your fists swinging the way
a mason’s sledge strikes the chisel,
how you and the art are at once
elemental and humorous,
how blood and melancholia,
earth and water are transformed
in the alchemy of kiln and glaze,
how proportion means more
than the ratio of height to width,
how perfect comes from imperfect,
and how a cracked pot may
make the ideal vessel.
from Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, September 5, 2016 — by James Wilk
Video thanks to All Satisfying