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We have come to understand ourselves
as surrounded by all things circular,
as the focus of curved space
and the repetitions of day and night,
the moon-ruled changings of seasons.
Symbolic of the sun and the endless progression
of birth and death, circles have impressed
their importance since first we became aware.
We discovered we were bound by circular paths
and found that in turn we could hold for ourselves
all things of importance and beauty in circles,
in bowls and cups, in pots and jars.
Bowls and cups with their bottoms flattened
lose some beauty to become useful.
Pots and plates become no more than utensils.
But jars are still the familiar repositories
of things we need to hold and treasure:
grandmother’s cookies with precious sweetness,
dried lentils the ancient hedge against hunger,
the collection of a child’s inquisitive mind.
We have shaped them as circles from circles for circles
to keep in safety the pieces of spirit
we hold dear with the light and the dark of the earth
to guide us sealed against harm with a lid.
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