Master Of The Universe Poem by Shane Markie
Master Of The Universe
I a m a potter molding dust
With eager wheel and patience long-
Into a form because I must,
Into a sturdy urn of song.
Others may work in porcelain
In marble pilaster or shrine;
Mine is the life-stuff, sweet with rain
T o shape into a singing line.
Mine isthe color days may bring-
Clear hues the soil-starred listener knows:
The lifting of a blue-bird's wing,
The inner music of a rose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 11:03:49 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
