We are like a clay pot,
being molded, in potters wheel,
from soft and loose, earthy soil,
distinctive vessels were built.

The wheel of life, starts to spin,
as we arrive, in mortal dimension,
every experience, like potters hands,
changing us into desired shapes.

We need moisture, softening ourselves,
to be receptive, of the discipline,
kneading the lessons, in our mind,
and be...