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What is it to be formed and meant to be what you were made. It's a process only the potter knows. Molds and forms go unknown & untold, so the wisest of clays must pray. When met with uncertainty, an ongoing cycle of 360's, and an added 5 for the year I felt so empty...I cried. You molded me and framed me, so please won't you fill me?
He sculpted freedom out of this bound pound of clay. He is the Potter, without Harry. (#tb)
I can shape you when you softly head to my words.
Oooooh the craftsmanship!
All the pressure pain & hurt
He never waists an ounce of it
Just like he gets inside of us
we get all over Him
Never keeps us at a distance
Always right there with us
the good work he started believe that he will finish.
A potter's wheel and clay to mold...
Portray this lump of clay it's hard for him to not see it's way, what art he can make, for its sake, he pick it up and his time he take, to form this clay into what he adorns, he had everything he need yet he made more, to sore or to swore through the coldest night, my God is he and the clay he had in sight, for I am the clay and just wanted to say, Christ is the only way, he took me up and now I'm free, a lump of clay is now prestige
Sorry for my latenesss ...... I never once asked myself what it was like to get my hands dirty, to touch something thats unordinary, to be in a place of a potter forming a beautiful artwork our of clay,
a masterpiece in the sight of man, created in his image and saw that it was good.