Susan Daniels Poetry

for T

If  I could, I would make this
A measurable thing;
I would breathe into it
My spirit, animate this vessel
While it is unwedged potential
Balanced in my palms,
Before that slap and press
So similar to a baker
Kneading dough,

But it is not bread
I would make for you.
I know, thrown and centered
My substance would compose itself
In a directed dance; the way my flesh rises
Under the lathe of your hands
In waves crested to fantastic forms
By your fingers,

This us; weighed, wheeled
And shaped, tear-glazed,
Will resist heat after the first firing,

Even when this clay breaks.
What it holds, what I hold
Cannot be contained forever
In jars or hands,
Covered and unvoiced–

But try this vessel.
You will find a love, though
Cracked on the surface
From past firing,
Unbroken in it’s essence;
A strength owned by stones,
Shown in their simple
Holding together.

Strength is not always motion,
Though for you I would lift up worlds.