made of clay

[lostNfound]

from the earth I am gathered
hastily thrown together
for careful work
with delicate hands

back in the sanctuary
of the womb
here I lay in the hearth
waiting for my purpose to be made

whether he be maker
or whether he be creator
he gives me life
he gives me purpose

thoughts are made mine
where I am given a gift
to walk my own path
which I way choose is my own

I am made of clay
where death in life is welcomed
to be laid to rest
to be reborn again

every birth walks a new path
each time a struggle
vines barring my path
but I grow stronger
strong enough to cut my way through

In time
I become my own maker
I am who I am

 

[GillyWin]

oh thats thoughtfully fresh,
who are you seeking approval from?

that was the impression i got?

 

[DeirdreScott]

Wow. You use the imagery of clay as well. I wrote a piece a while back using the symbolism of clay to describe my father. Good job!!! A+

 

[lostNfound]

oh thats thoughtfully fresh,
who are you seeking approval from?

that was the impression i got?

I'm not sure what my intentions were when I wrote that. I wrote in about 5 minutes or so after I had the idea of using clay as something to work with.
After reading it again, it seems I've used the clay to symbolise growth and rebirth of life.

 

[BrightEyesIsMe]

Oh wow! That was the best poem ever. I loved it. Keep it up !!! I like the end
"In time
I become my own maker
I am who I am"