Salt Water Clay

I do not know
if it is the beauty of recognition
or the marvel
of what is saved from imagination so
that it might bloom with experience.

But there are those times—

when the glory
of an honest heart is
singing its song
or writing its Word or
sculpting its emotion
and meets in another heart
the warm reception of honor—

that grace becomes tears
and tears become blessing
and blessing becomes
in turn, again,
warm, soft, pliable glory—

living clay to be crafted
over time
by wheels of experience,
spinning and shaping,
revealing and ever revealing.

©MperiodPress