For a potter does not water the seeds, he simply eats the food.

Contextually framed, yet never claiming blame,
amongst those that have molded the clay.
It begins to take shape of what the Maker demands,
and then, it is formed.
Forever remaining the same.
The same precious piece so carefully and patiently made.
Hardened and stiff,
maintaining the mold and shape forever.
It is stone.
Its only potential to be shifted and altered,
smash and break.
Destroy what was so specifically placed together.
Build up a new foundation
piece by piece,
it becomes new.
And yet,
still beautiful.