Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Craft (as in handcraft) (02/08/07)
TITLE: A Lump of Clay
By Tabiatha Tallent
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and spots some softened clay.
He digs it out and scoops it up,
“Twill make a wondrous vase.”
And while he heads back to his shop
his lips begin to pray,
“Dear Father take this piece of earth,
this humble piece of clay,
‘tis but a lump of clay.”
He sets the clay atop the wheel
and thinks about his goal,
his fingers wet, begin to press
and shape a little bowl.
His hands they glide and then caress
the pressed and muddy flow,
he watches as his plans take shape;
this lifeless little bowl.
The vase begins to grow.
The piece of clay is growing now
the potter must decide,
how tall and wide this piece will be,
how much will fit inside.
"It must be tall", he thinks out loud.
The potter shows his pride,
until a spot of tainted clay
shows weakness on one side.
A blemish he can’t hide.
He adds more clay to that poor spot,
and tries to build the breach.
The more he spins and guides and shapes,
the more he sees defeat.
“I will not quit,” he cries to God
“this piece I must complete,
You see the beauty of this pot.
It’s imperfections speak,
“Perfection can’t be reached”
The potter stops and wipes his brow;
the tears begin to spill,
as he begins to realize
this was his Father’s will.
The vessel, an imperfect bowl,
shows scars that cannot heal;
a picture of the Risen Lord
atop the potter’s wheel.
I know He loves me still.
The fractured vase now sits up proud
upon a lovely tray.
A masterpiece unseen by most,
yet loved up to this day.
The potter must not ever block
the mem’ry it conveys,
I will remain a work of God
I’m but a lump of clay.
We’re all but lumps of clay.
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