So I went down to the potters house.
And there he was working at the wheel.
I proceeded, quiet as a mouse.
Hoping the deal with God to seal.Whenever the wheel he was working on came out wrong.
He would start afresh.
So I continue with my spiritual song.
Hoping to escape life’s enveloping mesh.

Our hands work away.
Things come out right or wrong.
Our troubles we store away.
And continue with our own tuneless song.

Our life turns endlessly.
For the good  and messily.

…….

We work at our wheel
Sometimes things come out alright.
And other times not

……..

See Jeremiah 18: 1-6