Bending, moulding
Hands expertly guiding
Chiseling, manipulating
He steps back, admiring
Perhaps scrutinizing a little too much
Muscles on bones, joints too tight
Bones on skin, and joint to joint
Pulling, pushing, head cocked to one side
Intently observing
He does not create,
For what is, has been created
The vessel in its glorious perfection
Yet still in need of so much adjustments
The artist is as much the teacher
As the teacher is the artist that inspires
Neither inventing anything new
Only lighting up the road towards truth
Almost Hijau 