With her hands,
Clay transforms from mud to majesty;
Bowls, planters, and pitchers
Emerge from the chrysalis
Of gray slabs.
With her touch,
Colorless viscosity rages into vibrant hues
Cobalt blue and napthol crimson;
She casts her spell
As earth, fire, water, and air
Bubble over in her cauldron of creativity
Her art,
Her craft,
Her magic.
LOVE this line: “Clay transforms from mud to majesty”