Saturday, April 19, 2008

Creation In My Hands

I sit alone in my room
Snuggled under the shadow of my tin roof...
The rain falls
Like heavenly fountain
Till it reaches the earth
Down here ...
There's a shadow of hectic preparation
To open up our arms
As heaven drops its manna on us.
The wooden frameworks
Are standing... waiting... dripping
The clay figures inside the shed
Laugh at them
What a pity...
One day they wil be laughed at too.
But for me it's no laughing matter.
The creases on my forehead deepens
I'm worried - "will i make it this year?"
The heavens seem to spit upon my effort
I look up in indignation
I've been doing so every morning
But today...The clouds opened up
And answered my prayers
I thought falling on deaf ears
That ray of light
Washed away my tears
Tears... that dropped with the melting clay.
I start my work afresh
Undaunted ... Undefeated.
This is my battle for sustenance
I fight it every year.
The end is always known
But the path to it unclear.
The fresh supply of clay comes
My nimble fingers work upon
The hands, the face, the body...
I feel like God
The creation in my hands
Oh what pleasure there is
To give shape to the Divine...

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