Molded and shaped,
firm against the skin,
so much strength,
so subject to change.

Formation of shape,
line,
and form,
never the same,
defying the norm,
hand pressed down,
as I work to create.

Thick and centered,
grooves along the base,
just as life,
art is far from a race.

As with the burgeoning of the oak,
wings spring forth from the dust,
living sediment,
free from my grasp.