As low as clay it arrived,
Where it got stepped on by creatures
Hardest its soul be survived,
Yet vivid the bud of its treasures
Yet blind; the world on it
And low it remained timid
But ductile it stood fit
As faraway sights ...unknown amid
Greater it be paced, to transform
It, then light up with grandeur
Where every creatures devout with confirm
But be reality; earliest comes its endeavor.
As low as clay it arrived,
Where it got stepped on by every creatures
Hardest its soul be survived,
But let not it be wilted; the bud of treasures
Let not it remain low,
Strive to let bow every creatures once steeped upon,
As clay its worth if well transformed.
©tashinorbu
T