Poems by
Vasanta Athilat

Potter’s Hands

a poem by Vasanta Athilat

A clod of barren clay
Often tossed out of display
Chunk of Earth fed by seasons
Distraught in heat and draught
Slice of land, sunbaked
Dotted, cracked and sand trapped
Lifeless mud, I am
Invisible to many on the farm

Rescued in a mystic turn
To the potter’s wheel I commit
Drop by drop
Did he slake my thirst
Rolling in to a fluid mass
On the reeling swag I orbit
Sorcerous skill in his wrinkled hands
Along the spin those fingers vibe
A frozen past is mellowed
Thus my new pliable self is moulded

Yielding before his perseverance
I evolve, as my heart is set in place
The humbling spell, his sacrifice
My heart bloom, a tear drop…
Under the night lights
I am reborn, an Earthern bowl
As he breathes life in to my soul