The blower blows his glass
from heated quartz,
a bubble forms,
its walls so thin
and beautiful to see,
that men will stand in awe.
And some will weep
just to express their love
at nature's skills
and man's keen eyes.
Few know
that glass must cool,
allow its fragile walls
to harden in itself,
what looks to be
in strong and sturdy state
it needs maturity
and that requires time,
without it sadness soon will rule
and of the bubble
there remains
just heated air.
Beauty is a vulnerable thing and must be handled with utmost care. nice write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As with any fragile thing time is needed for maturity and grounding to set in - - this insightful poem touches on the need for handling with care..... then the bubble will never burst........... fondly from Fay.