the pot Maker...

They say…a birth is so beautiful…that sometimes…its maker is forgotten…

I

Once upon a time A man,
Loved someone a lot...
Lived alone he somewhere…
In a house with beautiful pots…

Each one was made special…
As if they had…a story to tell…
Of A life lived without her as…
He gave her to someone else…

One lonely night came…
An angel walking to his home…
A messenger of god He was…
In a corner waited he all alone…

The angel asked him then…
A wish to fulfill it true…
“I’ll make a last one…” said he…
“…then take me with you…”

The maker began to make…
A dream filled unbroken pot…
It looked complete a while later
the angel really thought…

‘…His wish was now complete…
whilst tears falling they prayed…
as if longing to live more…’
…but death had to be obeyed…

“It is time now…to go…”
The angel then whispered…
Gently lay a smile he…
As if a prayer left unheard…

Silenced were his tears as…
Moments later he was killed…
Eyes they spoke so dearly as…
A wish remained unfulfilled…

II

The Angel began to leave &…
…By mistake broke one pot...
Pieces it became near His feet...
& saw a carving of 'her' thought…

There was silence now…
As He looked here & there…
As if every pot remained…
Like a story no one shared…

Dreams they were inside so…
Lovingly carved with Clay…
The angel stood in silence &…
A wish broken lay his way…

In sadness He then walked…
& looked inside another one…
Felt two lovers carved as if…
his beloved loved someone…

Pieces of Clay were within…
Carved of things he never got…
A world of prayers lived…
were made true in every pot…

As He looked in One by One……
Others stared from a corner…
His fingers felt……
what His eyes didn’t see…

A girl kissed her man…
Blessed inside a little one…
Beside lay an empty pot…
As if praying for someone…

Her man held her with love…
A lake so frozen inside…
& darkness said in moonlight…
She was like…a heaven beside…

In arms of Eachother…
She loved him at the shore…
They looked so beautiful then…
They didn’t need him anymore…

How blessed can a distant…
moonlight light be……
to have purity taken from……
this darkness in a pot…

III

His last pot the Angel saw…
Made while he passed away…
Like a heaven it was within…
& broken…a boat of clay…

As if made for them…
Or may be he wanted to sail…
Or gift it to her & her beloved…
like a reminiscence in their trail…

The death angel realized…
He killed him way too soon…
Wishes they remained like…
A dream broken of a womb…

The death angel sat beside…
As if He knew every thought…
Cried so near his grave then…
Found his love in every pot…

Like a meaning only in darkness…
Inside were dreams of Clay…
As if the light was too impure…
It would steal its beauty away…

Sometimes…one can never know…
how beautiful can a reflection…
Ever be…
Of Darkness…in darkness…

The little pots were but…
Metaphors in physicality…
True, the world inside was
So unfulfilled in reality…

IV

The angel whispered as if…
listened the unburied corpse…
"A birth is so beautiful…sometimes…
that its maker is forgotten…lost…"

“She belonged so dearly…
like a destiny you fought…
You gave her to someone…
& cried in every thought…

You pray for her still with…
Dead hands folded to god…
But she’ll always be happy…
I promise no matter what…”

How amazing are sometimes…
these dead hands that pray…
So beautiful with Eyes open…
Just like a corpse at play…

Eyes they remained open for a reason…for how beautifully he watched…The angel taking away some pieces…& setting out on a journey…To fulfill a promise He made…to keep 'them' happy forever…

the End…

Part III, Para 1, starts the beginning of a new story, Part 2 of this write will be called “the Boat maker…”This is the 3rd of the 4 poems, which have the same Part 2