The old man looked like someone’s grandfather
As he quietly worked on the wheel of a potter.
She stared at his hands and the clay and the water.
She had come to there ask his advice.
She said, “Sometimes I feel like the color of beige
Like a bowl of oatmeal or a dark, empty stage.
It’s like my whole life is just a blank empty page
So I came here to ask your advice.
I mean, did you feel like this when you like me
Right at the beginning of all that could be
But you couldn’t get started and you couldn’t quite see
What your life was really about?”
But the potter was silent and stared at the wheel
And her anger boiled up and it was like he could feel
The pain in her heart that she tried to conceal
But her hands kept clenching into fists
The wheel kept on turning the way it will go
And the lump in his hand started to grow.
He said,”Why are you asking for what you already know
Don’t you know how amazing you are?
There is just one creator and he knows what to do.
Listen to my words, girl and know that they’re true.
He made the grass green and he made the sky blue
There’s some things you must do for yourself.
This clay is soft but given the time
I can work with it slowly with these old hands of mine
And I can make me a vase or a jug for my wine
But you see girl it’s all up to me.
You’ve been given this life and it’s already amazing
You can study your books or spend it star gazing
You can go out on the road and spend it hell razing
But you see girl, it’s all up to you
But I’ll tell you right now, there are people backstage
Who see your empty canvas. They see your blank page
And they come out here with paint…and mud..and buckets of rage
And they’ll tell who THEY think you are.
They’ll push you and mold you like the clay on this wheel
And they won’t care a jot about how you might feel.
I promise you, girl, it’s your soul that they steal
But you won’t let them have it, will you?
You better define yourself before someone else does.
They follow you around and start flappin’ their jaws
But you don’t have to listen to them girl, because
The creator left it all up to you.
Don’t go around blaming your mommy or dad,
Your sister who’s prettier or your brother the grad
‘Cause they had all same choices you know that you had
It’s your life girl not anyone else’s.”
And she looked down inside, deeper than she could remember
Down where the fire had grown cold as December
And she saw the small spark, a dim glowing ember
And she quietly gave it a blow.
And that one tiny coal it started to glow
And it made a small flame that started to grow
And then a bonfire and growing volcano
And she knew it was just getting started.
It was a note, then a song, then full symphony
Backed up by storm on the crashing blue sea.
She kept it all in her heart right where it should be
And she turned to the old man and said,
“I am a dancer and poet or great engineer
I can build you a building or quote your Shakespeare
And I have NO time for those who would fill me with fear
I know now it’s all up to me.
And I’m not mug or a bowl on your wheel.
I’m am the wheel itself and I know what I feel.
I’m creating myself and now here’s the deal…
I’m ready to define myself.”
– steve
Steve Case has been a story teller and youth pastor in various states in various denominations for 30 years. This poem can be found in the book Charlie the Flatulent Christmas Angel and Other Poems. It is one of the “other poems” You can purchase the book for the holidays here.
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