Choosing Clay

Rather hard but rather fragile,
these jars, these containers
of hope and dream,
not alabaster or porcelain,
though, not glass
or fine pottery
but simple ubiquitous clay,
hydrated silicates of dust

gathered up,
aluminumized,
compacted so hard that
the vessel must be hollowed out
to pour into, to pour through.
What was he thinking, this
clay maker, this
clay master:

no translucence
no reflection or refraction
only containment,
containment of light,
containment of treasure
that is the light
to shine in radiance within
the heart and then without

to demonstrate the power
of the clay maker,
the clay sculptor.
Common clay (a redundancy)
is more important
than its appearance,
than its substance
might suggest.

This poem, based on 2 Corinthians 4:6-8, is submitted for the One Word Blog Carnival hosted by Peter Pollock. To see more posts based on the prompt word “treasure,” please visit the site. The links will be live tonight about 10 p.m. Central time. (Yeah, I know my submission sounds more like it was prompted by the word “clay,” but what’s a heaven for?)

Photograph of clay jars via Pilgrimsfriend.