I am a potter
As sensitive as Harry Potter.
While making pots, I uphold
My fragile experience of the individual
Against the barbaric arbitrariness
Of History.
My pots are like parables sustained
By my imagination, which glows like fire,
Knowing very well that it will meet water.
Pottery is very much like poetry,
They are twins conceived
In the same beautiful womb
Of creativity which portrays
The indomitable spirit of man
And its powers of creation.
The poem and the pot
Give satisfaction to both
The bedouin and the prince.
Both satisfy thirst,
Thirst of the body
And thirst of the soul.
The pine knows it
And the poplar feels it.
pramila khadun
An admirable read
Thanks dear Gopallahiri for this mind blowing comment.
A reflective,enlightening composition.
Thanks dear Vijay for this very beautiful comment.