A Potter's Earthen Bottle Poem by sarahfaith Nwosu

On arrival of the messanger into the doors with no locks
a visitors welcome is felt but not shown
beholding like many potters, he wrought a work on the wheels
beaten deeply into his hands, he marred the vessel made of clay
so that he made it again, and then again without a sense of sadness

A visitor laments within, upon a hand what willbecome?
clay and wheel; as the clay in the potters hand
at one moment in one finger
at the other in the next
plucking up and pulling down are all the wonders

Only the chosen were sent on errands in times of desolaton
the journey that ran from east upon valley and west across gates
'the son of Hinnom' must hear their yet unproclaimed message
a potter only was permitted to tell
as he gets the intent of this errand, a visitor sits still and mild

'Let a cry be heard among the wicked sands that formed this clay
only the good will find mercy, as the evil will be beaten
the horrible thing done by a Virgin will cause her exile
like a man leaving the snow of lebanon which cometh from the rock
so will the potter furiously cause their pieces to stumble by the wheel

Even when the potter tries to even good for evil
to earn a better living intimes of famine
these evil clay willlet the wives be bereaved of their childern
as they have digged a pit for the potters soul
forgetting he alone calls the shots

Whn the evening tides up, the pottter will make known his sovereignty
behold he says again'This place shall no more be called Tophet
nor the valley of the son Hinnom, but the valley of slaughter'
between hand and mind of the supreme and his subordinates
that any piece which void the counsel of this place will he cause to fall

Now the message is clear to a visitor..
'broken earthen bottles will be buried in Tophet, till there is no place to bury
except he gives the message, wil he not eat the flesh of his friend's son
s the potter hands him the message that brought his visit
without altering a word, he disappeared into the streets of Tophet.