The wheel spun under control of a foot
that knew the speed necessary
to shape each piece of clay.
Fingers channeled the swirling mud
into dimensions being born
in the potter's mind.
As the potter reached down into the vessel
to shapen from within,
somehow the clay didn't respond
as he expected, and was marred.
He knew a mistake had been made,
but immediately began
the effort of renewal.
To some who saw the vessel,
it appeared irreparable.
The less experienced helpers recommended
throwing it away.
But as the potter took the marred vessel
in the palms of his hands,
He began remaking it into the likeness
he knew so well.
After a while the potter saw that the clay
had taken on a reddish hue,
and found the clay more pliable
as he continued the second working.
After the vessel had been treated by fire,
no one was aware that it had,
at one time been marred.
The potter displayed the vessel proudly
so all might see that the restoration
had produced a thing of
beauty and joy.
The potter's helpers praised
the reworking of the pieces
That had not been thrown away.
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