He shapes the flame to music
his breath a measured chime;
the molten world before him
refuses sense of time
The furnace sings of patience
the bubble learns to glow;
perfection is a moment
we teach ourselves to slow
His daughter brings him water
her eyes contain the flame;
he smiles as all creation
and love are just the same
When twilight fills the workshop
and silence finds its grace—
the glass still holds the breathing
of one eternal place