You are my potter
I am the clay
You can crush
You can pat
You can put me
On the wheel of time
Mould me as you like
I have nothing to
Say and think
I have nothing to worry
I have nothing to fear
I take refuge in You
O my dear I know
What ever is coming to me
It is your grace
It is your showers
For my welfare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Reminds me of 'Clay Upon The Wheel' The poet, like the potter, takes the raw clay of thoughts and shapes them through the mind of his loving you..... (written long ago in April 1985, we are still playing with clay)