Common Clay with self portrait

Common Clay

Harold Symmes

The Master placed within my hand
A bit of common clay.
"Of this make thee a life," he said,
"Fashion it night and day."

"But this, O Master, is cold earth,
Insensate dust of death.
For life I need Thy living fire,
The flame of stars, the breath
Of love, of joy, of wild desire,
Those deathless dawns that light
The surgent beauty of the day,
The firmament at night."

"Have faith in common clay," said He,
"A mystic force is thine.
As thou on the world's wheel shape thy clay,
So shall it grow divine."

Get goin' now. You've got a day to tend to.