The Crucible

We are crucibles of clay,

Here today and gone tomorrow—

A glint in the span of time.

"But for what?" we forever cry.

Lifetimes wasted searching and waiting for a reply.

From the dust,

Hope, Belief, Faith,

Calms some of the million why's,

some stacked on shelves waiting 'till we die.

Some are blessed with luck, others left in the muck.

What's the code, the secret, the reason?

We're left to ponder, left to wait, left to only walk by faith?

Is Heaven real, is it true? Have I done all I'm called to do?

Faith belies. Uncovered lies.

No magic gates, no quest or fate,

Sit in the quiet. Be. See. Feel.

Hear the silence. IT is real.

Here today and gone tomorrow, that much is fact.

Do what you will, act as you must.

But don't fritter this gift—for something unknown.

We are crucibles of clay, from dust to dust.

Here today and gone tomorrow—

A glint in the span of time.

K.A. Yates