The Self abandoned to You,
Laid down in full surrender
Allowing the Potter
To re-mold, and re-form the clay
You pound and shape, and shave away
the unnecessary fat,
The wood, the stubble
And the hay
Yeilded to Your fiery kiln
That fires the defects
And makes my life useful in
unexpected ways
This new season of fire
Is unfamiliar to my senses
So, they, too must be renewed,
reshaped, reformed
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