Still Standing...

An earthern pot once stood there
filled with life giving water
a crack mysteriously appeared one day
drained the precious liquid; never seen thereafter.

Now the pot remains; still dry and glazed
a fine layer of dust has settled down
stoic remains; almost asking
" for whom did i bleed myself dry"

days passed, the pot baked in the sun
turning brittle and ever susceptible
until finally the inevitable happened and it fell
off its humble pedestal; toppled by the mighty wind

shards scattered all over the floor
time; no longer benevolent; not anymore!
wreaked further havoc on whatever remained
till all was ground into tiny specks of dirt

back to where it came from; a full circle
till a hand came along and scooped it back up
mixed with water; shaped by long fingers
baked to perfection; robed in new colors...

once again i see... the pot.. still standing...