How true it is today that those whom
the gods wish to destroy
they first drive mad !
How can a pot aspire to know
the moods of the potter ?
What shape will it finally take
in the hands which mould it ?
So this restless heart of mine,
soothe yourself and learn to trust
that the Master Potter will never allow
the wet clay to turn again to dust.
Whatever the God is,
He is ever just !