The World Is Made Of Clay

The world is made of clay
to be shaped and molded
anyway our minds care to see,
in either splendor or waste
a planet blessed or doomed.

We can watch fertile fields
and see only death and decay
or gaze at a rubbish littered land
with eyes that discover treasures.

In the heart remains the gems
found by our wandering ways
happy when we discover hope
among the soil sought and searched.

Upon this mantle of earthen features
there is the rhythmic resonance
totally ringing its tones
deep into our senses.

Is it a song we celebrate,
a memorable tune with magic
instead of some funeral dirge,
it is up to our choice
our thoughts to gleam
what we define as beauty.

How we easily elect
what is the taste we find
among the flavors
spilled by this spinning orb’s
many sources of wells.