Only Clay

A lump

I hold in my hand

Gritty

Rough

I put it in water and let it soak

Washed

Cleansed

No longer rough

Better to touch

Nicer to feel

More pleasant certainly

Clay

What do I do with it

I squeeze it

I pull it

I throw it

It is still a lump

I work harder

I decide to just hold it

And in so doing I am able to begin

Meditation

Able to pray

Able to silence my soul

Dear clay in my hands

Remember your beginnings

Never lack gratitude

The Maker it was

He moulded you

Shaped you

 And then breathed His life into  you

Clay

Dust

Clay

Nourished and strengthened

You will live

You will live

But no longer I

No longer I  but Christ lives in me, in me, in me!

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