The cold velvet bends under her touch.
The humidity wraps around her fingers.
The scent of earth flirts with her brain.
It is so intriguing, she inhales and it lingers.
The intrigue deepens, as she surrenders.
“The only way to get rid of temptation,
is to yield to it”, they say.
She gives in to the shape.
It has a will on its own.
It never obeys…
This is a dance of imagination.
The clay grabs her and leads her to all sides.
It is an authentic creation,
where body serves, and the soul guides.
Full focus, oblivious to what is beyond.
One with her action,
she achieves a smooth and perfect flow.
No separation between human and creation.
No attachment to the result stands in the way.
In this expansion of time
the soul itself into a shape conveys.
Poetry of Living 
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