The Clay Speaks To The Potter

When Eden's tree put out its leaf Its roots with my dark side did pleat You were created from my bones The gentle dust beneath your feet Holder of honey, milk and wine The cup where lip and liquid meet I am the fragments ground by Time The gentle dust beneath your feet The hatchery of history Older am I than wood, than peat I am the child of storm and stone The gentle dust beneath your feet Touch me. I yield, take any shape Then turn my face towards the heat Of transformation in the kiln The gentle dust beneath your feet And when you step from light and life Into the tomb, so cool, so sweet I will enfold you at the last The gentle dust beneath your feet