The Pot Maker Poem by subodh pandey
The Pot Maker
Unsteadily first revolves the pot maker’s wheel
With tremulous hands, he searches what’s not there.
His fingers reach out for mud and mud for him.
Emptiness forms on both sides of the mud
In the beautiful expanse of his patience,
He endures to retrieve the shape of earth, long forgotten
Amidst, he along with birds chirps
Something like an ancient hymn.
His fingers reach out for mud and mud for him. Emptiness forms on both sides of the mud In the beautiful expanse of his patience, The tremulous hands now find a mouthpiece in your poetry.Nice portrayals.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 10:16:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautiful imagery with great depth, inspired write!