Poem #11 of 2025, using the prompt "shatter," is due today. I wrote two quatrains using iambic pentameter as a rhythm/rhyme pattern.
The Glassblower's Secret
A vessel in the heat becomes a pot
A vase, a bottle, statue, or whatnot.
While in the fire, most anything can be
The options stretch to all eternity.
But once a vessel’s shaped and cooled and set,
Its form is what it is despite regret.
Changing now is not a simple matter.
Transformation starts with painful “shatter!”
3 comments:
Beautiful!
Love this poem. I related it to us as children as the vessel; as they go through the storms of life, shaped by those around, choices good or bad, the fiery ambitions we tend not to stay grounded with the Lord until your life reaches a wall and we are tired and say no more and we transform our lives back to Christ.
Exactly what I was thinking!
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