Paddling, hurling, bobbing, whirling with increasing pace
Carefully He shapes it as delicately He feels,
Touching, holding, smoothing, molding with the fingertips of grace.
It rises to His vision on the dizzying, spinning wheel.
With tender touch and tiny blade perfect lines He traces,
Carving out its form in a dozen glistening places.
Now the hidden beauty in the earthen crock’s revealed.

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About David Young

For nearly 50 years I have regularly written poems, plays, articles and devotionals for various publications. I have written 6 books. I have terminal cancer. God as granted me much more time than the doctors' expected. Every day is a blessing.
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