INTO THE CLAY

We think ourselves gods

as we press our fingers into

the soft clay of Humanity,

kneading, molding, shaping,

(none to gently)

and we try to remake each other

into something we are familiar with;

little gray statues---

mass produced by the millions.

And, we miss the distinctions,

the colors and shapes,

so rich and unique

that fascinate

 with their custom design.

Here a delicate curve,

there a line or sharp angle;

a tall massive form,

a small fragile figure,

painted warm or cool,

subtle or bold,

bright or pastel...

but each an original...

one of a kind.

Why do we do it?

Perhaps we fear that if we don't mold,

 we might be molded.

If we don't alter,

we might be altered,

or worse;

we might face something

different---unknown.

So we sculpt and we mold,

soothing our senses,

feeling no challenge...

Remaining alone.

In the process we forfeit

the joy of beholding

a genuine Masterpiece

fashioned by God.