I’ve turned this page, intrigued to know more, I read as His story unfolds:
Mr. Smith takes the silver, though cold to the touch, he hammers the metal, till it bends & it folds. He knows as he works it, it hardens & molds, by the force of his hand, he can shape a new stand. But careful he is, not to quicken the blow, for he must use the heat, to soften the load. He’s careful & sure, with the flame to apply, or the metal will crack & break from the cold. The next day, Mr. Smith uses his raw & pure gold. Though it’s supple & soft, combined with the heat, the silver & gold, he yields a new piece. He creates something colorful, stronger & true, from out of the ashes, comes a beautiful hue. Potter now takes his place at the wheel. He gathers his clay & adds water to feel, the shape of his work, though fragile…its real! To perfect his creation by sealing the clay, he fires the pot at a lower temp blaze. He then cools the vase, paints a colorful glaze, then fires this beauty under flame once again. He places his artwork, so much to behold, on the stand he’d created from silver & gold. He looks at his work, how alike is his life; his struggles seemed hard, as his heart had been hurt. Now weary & worn, weak & afraid, he warms himself carefully by the heat of the kiln. He slowly is softened by the words of his friend, “take courage, be strong, together we can!” He thinks to himself, “who am I, just a man?”. But just like the clay, though once only a lump, had become something much more than he’d ever hoped for. The fire had shaped, molded & sealed, what he had made & formed on the wheel. It’s not what we were, not just what we are, but what we will be, what we’re to become. He thinks to himself, the trials of this life, though wearing & hard, shall never define us. They never shall make us, but simply said, they are here to refine us. I put down the book, left a marker in place, I pondered then whispered, “I thank you for this, Mr. Potter Smith”.
Painting by: Jim Peppler
