A soft touch, sublime and so clever,
molds my spirit and soul more than ever
did society's tough desires and demands.
I hope to never break The Potter's tether.
I am slowly smoothed by my Master's hands.
My frailty and mistakes He understands.
Like a thrown pot or vase created
I take the shape The Creator commands.
The Potter fixed what life desecrated
now I am His creation as I have related.
I am no longer a vessel, soul vacated.
I hope when He looks at me He is elated.
Written by Lou Marin
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