At the Wheel

I sometimes write about driving ... or other drivers ... but not today.

The wheel referred to in today's poem is a potter's wheel ... that device on which a glob of clay is tossed, then, with an expert touch as the wheel goes whirling round and round, gradually becomes a work of art.

It may become something quite fragile, or it may turn out to be a very substantial piece, depending on the imagination ... and skill ... of its creator.

I feel that same process at work when I toss a glob of words on the wheel (I always hope it's a somewhat orderly collection of words, even in the beginnings of a poem). Then the revisions, the serious shaping and reshaping begins.

Over time those words take on new shapes, new meanings, sometimes quite fragile, sometimes substantial. Then I let the reader judge ... in light of his or her own experience, for the reader always brings something to the poem.

This one was originally published in Candlelight Poetry Journal:

AT THE WHEEL

I sit watching

these words

mounded, whirling,

rising at the touch

of my fingers,

becoming something

I shall slide

into the glowing kiln

of understanding

and, warmed by it,

stand marveling

at what I've made.

© 1998

***

Today's word: substantial

Afterthoughts ... in response to your comments:

Welcome back, Marti! We've missed you ... I hope your visit today means your computer is behaving once again ... glad you're able to find a few moments to join the conversation here. Best wishes.