Potter’s hands pluck the flesh
of the earth to knead and mold.
Does he know he is kneading
his own flesh to form another
body to hold water or milk.
A pitcher, a pot, a body, an earth
flesh of flesh, soil of soil
The potter who kneads will be kneaded too.
The Mother’s knead, you should neither
fear nor impede. This magical
deed could render you as
sweetness of a mango or the flighty
feather upon an eagle’s wing
or maybe a scholar or a king
a pitcher or a pot.